Tango 'Til They're Sore
by FrankLeroux
Summary: Chief Engineer Marcus Donnelly has to wrestle with the morality of doing good deeds while working for some pretty horrible people. He also somehow has to deal with the crazy biotic criminal who's taken up residence in Engineering. Rated M for oh so much language (because Jack) and for explicit sexy times and bloody violence later on.
1. Way Down In The Hole

**_Author's Note: This is rated M for lots of language right up front (because Jack) and for sexy-times and violence later on in the story. It assumes familiarity with the Mass Effect 2 storyline, and will sometimes reference certain parts of the game's story without actually describing them. More notes on the story are in my profile, if you're interested. Thanks for reading!_**

* * *

 _Well you play that tarantella, all the hounds will start to roar_  
 _The boys all go to hell and then the Cubans hit the floor_  
 _They drive along the pipeline, they tango 'til they're sore_  
 _They take apart their nightmares and they leave them by the door_

-Tom Waits, "Tango 'Til They're Sore"

* * *

The tether snaps him _hard_ and Donnelly spins, seeing the stars cartwheel overhead. He slams into the white metal hull of the _Perugia_. Acting on pure instinct, he flails the clamping tool in his hand into the metal below and feels the mechanism bite in. There is a coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Held fast for the moment, he peers through his faceplate in panic. The world is filled with destruction. Debris streaks overhead. Forward of the ship, he sees a huge segmented black limb gesture lazily. A violet beam blazes out from the limb's tip. The cruiser _Jakarta_ is sliced in half by the beam, and he can see the small human forms spilling into the void from here. Ahead of that is a giant black shape out of a nightmare...a glaring red eye that seeks him out...

* * *

Jack bounces the guard off of the wall like he's a rubber ball. She hears the man groan, and hears the crack of bones breaking. Jack slings him around against the other wall, and there is more cracking and a final shudder as he dies. She races down the hall, feeling fierce, feeling unstoppable, feeling _free_. There is another guard in front of her, and just as she's about to punch the sonovabitch into oblivion a shot goes past her shoulder and nails the bastard right in the eye. The guard jerks and flops to the floor like a discarded puppet. She spins, looking for new enemies.

There is a man, tall and powerful, who stands in heavy scarred armor with an 'N7' logo emblazoned on its breast. He is casually holding a pistol with one hand. The man fixes her with eyes the color of tempered steel. Jack hears about a mission, hears that he needs her for a team. She agrees, with certain conditions. As they leave, she turns to look out the viewport and regards the ship they came in. It is a large, sleek craft which bears a hated logo. But it also bears its name proudly along its flank.

 _NORMANDY_.

* * *

"So here's the situation, Marcus," said Shepard. "Jack is our new recruit for the ground team. I won't sugar-coat it, she's a criminal and a murderer and...let's just say she's anti-social. She wants that small subfloor space in Engineering for her quarters. I'm inclined to let her. I don't want her interacting too much with the crew for a while, until she's had a chance to ah, readjust and settle in. Is that going to be a problem for your team?"

Marcus Donnelly, Chief Engineer for the SR-2 _Normandy_ , had learned a very valuable lesson long ago. When being presented with a frankly stupid idea by your superior officer, it was best to not show a single hint of irritation. He had acquired the fine art of plastering an impassive non-expression on his face and acting as if the idea in question was the most natural thing in the world. Bang two subcritical hunks of plutonium together to keep warm? Sure, give it a go. Have a violent maniac squatting in one of the most vital areas of the ship? Yeah, why not. He knew that Shepard was not dumb, quite the opposite. This must have looked like the best solution to the Commander at the time. And if Donnelly and Shepard had been alone, he would have tried to explain in greater detail why it was a bad idea. But unfortunately they weren't alone. Why this briefing was taking place in Miranda Lawson's office he couldn't guess. He would have preferred talking one-on-one with Shepard because he would feel freer to plead his case. And also because the Cerberus officer's icy blue gaze gave him the creeps.

"Well, Shepard," he said, "It may not work. We still have to have access to the area. I mean, it's not storage space. It's meant to be used. We'll need to get in there every so often to do maintenance checks, at the very least."

"How often?" asked Miranda. She had her usual little superior smirk plastered on her face.

Donnelly quashed a little flare of anger. "At least every three or four days, to make sure our PM is kept proper."

"I'll have a talk with her," said Shepard. "I'm sure she'll be accommodating."

The Commander's lips twitched into a slight grin. "Don't worry, Marcus, she's not completely feral. Just don't barge in on her without knocking. When we de-iced her on Purgatory, I saw her rip apart three YMIR mechs without even slowing down."

"Understood, Shepard."

* * *

The subfloor space was accessed by stairs. There were no doors. Standing at the top of those stairs, Donnelly realized there really wasn't a place to actually knock. "Heading down," he called out, and clumped down the steps trying to make as much noise as possible. He thought, wryly, that it was the same strategy as when dealing with grizzly bears. He thought back on Shepard's warning. YMIR mechs weighed at least half a ton each. He wondered what kind of a physical freak was Jack, to do such damage. He envisioned a wall of muscle and scars, with broken teeth and mismatched eyes like the mercenary Zaeed.

There was a soft grunt from below. Crap, had he woken her up? He reached the bottom and crossed into the red-lit, cramped space.

He settled eyes for the first time on Jack.

She was curled up on an inflatable mattress, facing the wall. Her petite frame couldn't have been more unlike his mental image. He stared in confusion at her bare and narrow back, which was covered with a crazy-quilt array of tattoos. This wee thing was Jack?

Jack turned over, and by the time she looked at him Donnelly had his impassive 'Chief Engineer' face back on. _Her_ face was gorgeous, there was no other word for it. She had dark almond eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. Even her shaved scalp seemed designed to show off the perfect shape of her skull. The outer edges of her ears were encased in some kind of odd earring. She sneered at him, throwing off her face's proportions.

"You got five fucking seconds to explain yourself, assface," she said. Her voice was hoarse, as if she'd been recently shouting.

"Sorry to wake you, ma'am," he said.

"Oh, Maaaaam is it?" she drawled. "You think you're some kinda fucking gentleman?"

"No, I'm a Chief Engineer Donnelly. That's even better."

"Yeah, whatever. I think you look more like an assface, Assface."

Donnelly shrugged. "We need to do maintenance in here every so often," he said. "I think Shepard might have mentioned it?"

"Yeah, the fucking Boy Scout told me." She swung her legs around gracefully to sit on the edge of her bed. She was wearing black combat boots and the baggy pants of a prison uniform. The pants were lashed to her hips with a belt much too big for her. Her stomach was slim and lined with wiry muscle, and also covered with more tattoos. She had taken a few more belts and made some kind of halter or bra that barely covered her nipples while leaving much of her breasts exposed. It was somehow more erotic than no clothing at all, and Donnelly suspected that was Jack's intent.

"So, Assface, do you really need to come in here? Or is this just an excuse to get an eyeful?"

Donnelly pointed behind her. "Right behind your bed is one of the main power cables to life support. If that breaks, we all get to die cold and in the dark." He gestured overhead. "Up here are the port and starboard plasma conduits. They feed energy to the drive core and contain ionized gas at about fifteen thousand degrees Celsius. We need to make sure that there's no abnormal wear in the conduits, or _they'll_ break and you get to try breathing superheated plasma. I don't think that will work out so well."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You makin' fun of me, Assface? Do you know who I am?" There was a blue glow around her head as she spoke.

"Yes, ma'am, I do know who you are. I can assure you that superheated plasma does _not_ know who you are, nor does it care."

She stood, staring daggers at him. The blue glow spread around her, encasing her in a swirling aura. Donnelly had seen some biotics in action during his previous service, but he had never seen someone able to manifest a field like this. Which, in turn, explained how such a wee thing could take out three YMIRs. He kept his face impassive as she stepped closer and glared up at him. He caught a faint whiff of ozone. Jack's head barely came to his chin, and he probably outweighed her by fifty kilos. He knew, however, that she could flatten him without effort. They stood like that for thirty seconds. Then Jack snorted, stepped back, and looked him up and down. "Is that your engineer outfit?" she asked. "Plain blue coveralls? Everybody else on this fuckin' ship has the Cerberus logo plastered on their ass. Why aren't you wearing one of their uniforms?"

"I don't like them, ma'am"

"The uniform or Cerberus?"

"Both."

She stepped closer again. The blue glow died a little, but her eyes were still hard. "Well then, What. The. Fuck. are you doing on this ship, Assface?"

"I'm here because Shepard is here."

"Oh, great, another wannabe hero panting after the goddamn Boy Scout." Her blue aura winked out. She slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. He felt the strength in that slap, even without biotic enhancement. "Go do your fuckin' chores or whatever. But you see this area?" Jack pointed at the section of flooring around her mattress. "This is _my_ territory, Assface. You can come down here to do your fucking job, but _only_ you. Nobody else, none of your fucking minions. Do not step on this part of the floor. Do not touch my stuff. Do not speak to me. Or I will crush your balls into nothing. Got it?"

Donnelly just nodded. His face never changed. He pulled out his scanning tools and got to work. Jack turned away and regarded her bed. There was a few OSDs and a datapad scattered on the mattress, along with a few nutrient bars. That seemed to be the extent of Jack's worldly possessions. He saw her head drop a little.

"Er, am I going to have to move this? You said something about a main power cable?" Her voice sounded tired and a little embarrassed, probably because she was already violating the 'do not speak to me' rule. Donnelly looked over at her. Underneath the welter of tattoos on her back were two long, meandering scars that ran up just along either side of her spine.

"It's fine where it is," he said. "I can do continuity checks on either side, and we'll only need to move it if there's something out of spec."

"Okay." She didn't speak again. Donnelly moved with quiet efficiency, opening a few access points here and there to check on things. He then ran his fingers over a patched-over section of piping they'd welded in a little while ago. It only took a few minutes, and when he was done Donnelly nodded to Jack and tramped back up the stairs.

* * *

Donnelly blew out a great breath of air in the elevator. He hadn't been scared, exactly. Fear of lesser things such as his own death had been burned out of him during one very bad day about two years ago. However, meeting Jack had certainly been _interesting_. Her question lingered in his head. Why was he on this ship? He had a good reason, but was it good enough?

He supposed he could have asked Jack the same question, if he didn't mind spending the rest of his life as a eunuch. She was clearly pissed off at Cerberus. And yet here she was on a Cerberus frigate. He was sure that Shepard had done his usual 'Shepard-thing' with her, promising sunshine and rainbows and then somehow actually delivering on his promises. Or at least making you think that he had.

At least his maintenance schedule wouldn't be affected. He put the whole mess out of his mind and walked out of the elevator towards his quarters.

"Hey, Chiefy," said a raspy voice behind him.

"Hi Zaeed," he replied. He turned and gave the hulking mercenary a half-smile. Zaeed might be bit of a blowhard, but he was up front about himself and a very simple man to read. Donnelly liked that.

"You meet the new recruit?" asked Zaeed.

"Yeah, just now."

"Well, you're not walkin' funny so I guess it went well, eh?" Zaeed gave a gravelly chuckle. "Just step lightly around 'er. I know she's going to be in your baliwick for a while. The goddamn kid's like a handful of nitro."

"So I've heard. You were on the team in Purgatory, right?"

"Yeah." Zaeed scratched at one ear. "Purgatory was a bad place, right? Full of hard cases. The worst of the worst. And they were all shittin' themselves, every man of 'em, when we mentioned Jack. And then it all went down the khazi, so we let 'er out." He shook his head. "I know a good swath o' destruction when I see it, right? She made it look _easy_." Zaeed squinted at Donnelly with his mismatched eyes. "Just don't get yourself splatted, okay Chiefy? I'd have to find a new drinkin' buddy. Speakin' of which, are you off shift now?"

Donnelly laughed and nodded.

* * *

Jack lay on her stomach, kicking one foot absently against the wall. She scanned through an OSD with her datapad, pausing to make notes here and there. She was using the back of some printouts she'd 'appropriated' along with a pen for her note-taking; Jack didn't trust the ship's AI one bit. EDI sounded nice and pleasant, but that was just like Cerberus. They were good at sounding all understanding and comforting, and then they were even better at shivving someone at the soonest opportunity.

The files she'd gotten from Shepard were extensive but also fragmented, as if they had been heavily edited. She was sure the fucking cheerleader had something to do with that. Miranda might be beautiful, but she looked like a tool wearing that stupid catsuit festooned with the Cerberus logo. From the first, the Cerberus officer had looked at Jack as if she was beneath contempt.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time that Jack had been underestimated. She knew she could tease something out of this information. It would just be a matter of time. She would figure it all out, as long as she wasn't interrupted too much. Especially by that jackoff engineer. He seemed like a real wierdo. Big guy with a face like a used catcher's mitt. He didn't wear a Cerberus logo, which was a plus, but he was also way too willing to follow Shepard. She didn't trust the Commander yet. Shepard seemed like too much of a hero. And Jack knew that heroes always died in the end, along with anybody following them.

It was a little strange, though, how the engineer hadn't been scared of her. Even in the middle of her little dominance display, she had been looking right in his eyes and _there had been no fear in him_. She shrugged to herself. Maybe he was just too stupid to be afraid.


	2. Goin' out West

It was a few drinks later - and it was just a few, he was due back on duty in eight hours - and Donnelly was back in the cubicle that could be generously called his quarters. At least he rated a separate room, as opposed to the general crew quarters. And even those were an improvement over the hot-bunking pods he'd gotten used to while in the Alliance. So all things told, Donnelly was quite content with his surroundings. The bed and desk were folded away which left him just enough space to sit in lotus position. He closed his eyes and began to slow his breathing. He could feel the tension in his face and the beginnings of a headache behind one eye. He told himself to just pay attention to his breathing.

-Dark brown eyes, full of fury, staring holes through him. A single question-

-What. The. Fuck. are you doing on this ship?-

-A black nightmare shape-

-A red beam-

-The Eye-

 **-THE VOICE-**

Just breathe. Let the thoughts go. Don't control them. Let them come, and then let them go.

* * *

He'd been on Omega, sitting morosely in the Afterlife club.

Donnelly felt the bass of the music pulse through him and hoped it would somehow make him feel alive again. He was surrounded by excited, chattering patrons. Lots of stories were being exchanged, many trysts were being planned. There seemed to be blue-skinned asari dancers everywhere, occupying every elevated horizontal space. He watched their lithe, scantily-clad forms twist and gyrate. Donnelly wished such views would give him pleasure. But they couldn't, not now.

He slowly turned his glass in his large, callused hands. The amber liquid within rocked gently. The booth was empty; his dark demeanor did not invite others to join him. Donnelly knew what his problem was. However, this was a case where knowing did not help. He had _seen_ the horror that was coming for them all, he'd been impacted by it in ways that his comrades in the Alliance just didn't understand. Donnelly had watched and ground his teeth as the Council and then the Alliance had begun to solidify the 'official' position. The attack on the Citadel had been a massive, unexpected geth invasion - and nothing more. Sovereign was a giant geth dreadnought - and nothing more. Yes, there had been initial rumors of 'Reapers', giant genocidal machines from deepest intergalactic space, but those were just rumors.

Donnelly had protested to his immediate superiors, then to anyone else who would listen. He had tried to work within the system. He'd been slapped with the 'PTSD' label and sent to mandatory counseling. He'd begun to drink more, probably a little too much. He had taken up meditation to try to calm himself. He kept up his protest efforts. The posthumous shellacking of Shepard's reputation had been the last straw. To see the Hero of the Citadel turned into an object of derision was too much. Things had gotten very ugly after that.

"Do you mind if we join you?" The voice was lovely and feminine, with a hint of an Australian accent. Donnelly looked up at the newcomer. Her face was pale, flawless, and as lovely as her voice. She had jet-black hair and light blue eyes that, for now, focused only on him. Donnelly saw a man standing behind her, but he was turned away to scan the rest of the club. All Donnelly saw of him was the back of a head and short brown hair.

Donnelly waved to the bench opposite him. "Sure, it's a free country. For a while, anyway." He regarded the two as they sat. The woman was wearing some kind of black-and-white catsuit that hugged her spectacular figure. There was an orange-and-black hexagonal logo on one shoulder of her outfit. The man, on the other hand, was dressed simply in jeans and a black tee shirt. His body was large and muscular, giving off the impression of vast coiled power just under the surface.

The man had eyes almost as blue as his companion's, but somehow they seemed warmer and less icy. His most obvious facial feature was a thin network of scars that crisscrossed his face. It may have been an artifact of Afterlife's dim lighting, but Donnelly could have sworn that the scars were faintly...glowing?

Donnelly crossed his burly arms and looked closer at the man. There was something familiar in those features. "I know you, don't I?" he asked the man.

The man shrugged, "I'm sure you've seen me, but I don't believe we've ever met personally. My colleague here is Miranda Lawson." Miranda gave Donnelly a graceful nod. "And I am-" the man paused, and one edge of his mouth curled up in an ironic grin. "-well, maybe you remember _this_." The man turned his head, showing Donnelly his profile. He tilted his chin up, and put a determined look on his face as if staring down the universe.

It was a very famous pose, from a very famous man. For the first time that evening, Donnelly truly felt something. Utter shock. "No! It cannae be!"

The man turned back to him and gave a soft, sad chuckle. "I'm afraid so. John Shepard, at your service."

Donnelly fumbled for his glass. "Dammit, man, I saw the vids of your funeral. It's been two damn years! If you were alive, why didn't you say something?"

"He wasn't alive," said Miranda. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say that John Shepard has had a very long road to recovery. But he's here now. And so are we."

Donnelly looked over at her. "We, ma'am?"

"Cerberus. We're the ones who brought Shepard back to life."

Donnelly took a sip and thought. He'd heard of Cerberus, some sort of human-centric extremist group. There were rumors of assassinations and weird experiments with alien technology. He looked at Shepard. "Is this true, Commander?"

Shepard nodded. "It is. Miranda was the one who personally oversaw the project to, um, rebuild me. Oh, and technically I'm no longer a Lt. Commander. Just as you are no longer an Operations Chief."

Donnelly realized what they were here for. He leaned back and crossed his arms again. "Okay, so make your pitch."

The two newcomers looked at each other.

"Oh come on," continued Donnelly. "You didn't just happen to run into me. You clearly know my service record, you know that I'm ex-Alliance. And I imagine that the news of Shepard's return is still being kept secret. You wouldn't just tell some lonely drunk chap in a bar."

"Yes, Shepard's status is being kept secret for now," said Miranda. "And you're correct in that were hoping to recruit you. I've read your file, I know what happened to you during the Battle of the Citadel. We aren't looking for somebody just interested in a paycheck. We need people who are capable _and_ who are committed, who know what we need to fight."

Donnelly took in a great breath. "The Reapers," he said, breathing out. It was a name he hadn't said aloud in quite a while. The club's lighting seemed to get even dimmer as he said it.

Miranda nodded. "We have a mission. We need a Chief Engineer. More specifically, we need you. You have an exemplary service record-"

Donnelly gave a short, bitter laugh.

"-yes, I would call it exemplary, even given the circumstances of your departure."

"Ah, departure. Is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Donnelly took a larger gulp of his drink. He gestured around the club. "None of them know what's coming, do they? All this gaeity. It's all so much whistling past the graveyard." He regarded his drink, then set it down. "So you're going to fight them?"

Shepard nodded. "We are. And it isn't quite as bleak as you might think. The Reapers aren't gods, they're just very advanced machines. And their main weapon is surprise."  
The former Spectre leaned forward. "What I'm about to say is highly classified. I might get in real trouble with the Council for telling you." Shepard rolled his eyes as he said the last. "The Citadel is a mass relay. A giant mass relay, connecting to intergalactic space. It wasn't built by the Protheans like we thought."

Donnelly scratched under his chin. He knew he should have been surprised, but somehow it made sense. "So who did build it?"

"The Reapers," said Miranda. "And their standard strategy is to use the Citadel relay to launch a huge, unexpected attack at the heart of whatever civilization is residing there. And they do it like clockwork, every fifty thousand years or so. You see, the Protheans weren't the first civilization destroyed by the Reapers. It's a cycle that's been going on for...well, millions of years, maybe. We're not sure."

Donnelly thought a little more. "So the attack on the Citadel was to open the relay. Sovereign was trying to let the rest of his mates through. But why didn't they just, I dunno, push a button? Surely the Reapers have remote access if they built it?"

Shepard smiled. "The Protheans. They got in a sucker punch, right before their end. A small strike team was able to infiltrate onto the Citadel right after the last cycle and take away the Reapers' ability to remotely open the relay."

Miranda now leaned forward. "Thanks to the Protheans and to Shepard, the Reapers are still trapped in intergalactic space," she said. "We've slammed shut their main door into the galaxy. Under normal FTL speeds, the Reapers are going to take centuries, or more like millennia, to get here."

Donnelly nearly reached for his drink, then thought better of it and leaned back. He caught the glance that passed between Miranda and Shepard. "So without mass relays, by the time the Reapers get here, we'll be advanced enough to take them on. However, I'm guessing they're still looking for a back door into the relay network. They must have alternates set up, yes?"

"We think they have several proxy species scattered throughout the galaxy," said Miranda. "And one of them has just begun operating in earnest."

"Mr. Donnelly, have you ever heard of the Collectors?" asked Shepard.

Donnelly shrugged. The name was familiar, but he really didn't have any recollection beyond that. "Not really."

"They're an advanced and very secretive race," said Shepard. "Until recently, they were known for...well, collecting specimens of different sapient species. Just a few, here and there. But about six months ago, they began abducting whole colonies."

"And only human colonies," added Miranda. "Tens of thousands of people by now. Why they're doing it is still a mystery. But past reports on the Collectors indicate that they use Reaper-based technology. So whatever they're up to, it involves the Reapers. We're going to go and take them out."

Donnelly looked at Miranda "We, eh? You mean Cerberus." He pointed at the logo on her shoulder. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, it's the symbol of Cerberus," said Miranda with evident pride. "I know, it sounds odd for a secretive organization like ours to have an official logo. But we're entering a new phase. Under previous management, our group made some...unfortunate choices-"

Donnelly saw Shepard's face harden.

"-but that is in the past. We're trying to show that we can be an open and positive force for good."

Donnelly looked at Shepard. "You're going to be leading this mission?"

Shepard nodded.

"Okay then, Ms. Lawson," said Donnelly. "If you've read my file then you know that there really is only one answer I can give you, correct?" And he knew it was true. Even if the man sitting across from him was some sort of clone, even if the whole thing was a fake, he couldn't just walk away. It was either try to fight, or sit and drink himself into a stupor waiting for the inevitable end.

He saw them both relax. "Excellent," said Miranda. "We can go over salary and other details later. I know it isn't that important to you, but you will be well compensated."

"Actually," said Donnelly, "I do have one condition."

Miranda frowned. "Well, that depends. If it's reasonable, we can accommodate you."

"I'm assuming you have a nice new uniform for me, to go with that logo?" Donnelly asked.

"Of course. As I said, this is going to be an above-board operation."

Donnelly placed his hands on the table and laced his fingers together. "I wore a uniform for ten years. For an organization that I thought was worth fighting for. And they let me down and they let him down." He nodded at Shepard. "Hell, they've let everybody down. I swore when I left that I'd never put on a uniform again."

He regarded them both. "So, I will join you. I will be the best damn engineer you ever saw. I will fight with you, because the Reapers need to be fought. I will follow Shepard into the very mouth of hell, if that's what you ask of me. But I won't wear a uniform. Never again."

Shepard and Miranda looked at each other. Shepard nodded, and Miranda gave a little shrug, as if to tell the Commander _it's your call_. "I don't think that will be a problem, Mr. Donnelly," she said.

"Excellent," said Donnelly. He picked up his drink and drained it. "So, I'm assuming that since you need a Chief Engineer, you have a ship for me?"

And Shepard smiled, the first really happy smile that Donnelly had seen from the man. "Oh yes, we do."

* * *

"Mornin', Abramson," said Donnelly. He stretched a bit as he walked into Main Engineering. "How's she doing?"

Abramson was one of his two assistant engineers, and had apparently been with Cerberus for a while even before the Collector mission. He was a shorter, tow-headed man who always had a pleasant smile for everyone. It was a nice change from his other assistant, Rogers. Rogers always looked like someone had just let out a very raunchy fart. However, today Abramson didn't look happy.

"The core is fine, Marcus," replied the assistant, "but I'm missing a few printouts." That explained Abramson's expression. Missing paper was not just clutter, it could be dangerous. It could work its way into some vital bit of equipment.

"Don't worry, we'll find 'em," said Marcus. "Where did you see them last?"

"That's the thing," said Abramson with some exasperation. "I had them right over by the stairs to the subfloor space. I set them down, and when I turned back they were gone. There isn't anywhere they could go! It's not like we have rats or something on board."

A suspicion began to form in Donnelly's mind. "Rats, no," he said. "But I think they may have been taken, all the same."

Abramson gave him a quizzical look, then his eyes widened. "Oh man, you think it was her?" The assistant pointed one finger down at the floor.

Donnelly nodded. "Probably. Let's just put this one down as a lesson learned. Just make sure we don't leave things lying around, okay?"

* * *

They settled into a routine, or at least as much as Donnelly could manage on a warship going into harm's way on a regular basis. He shuffled the maintenance duty roster in order to keep the other two engineering staff well away from the subfloor area. He tried to make his visits there on a regular schedule. Sometimes, Shepard was there, speaking in a low voice to Jack. Donnelly always waited until the Commander was gone before venturing down.

Kelly Chambers had asked him if she could accompany him on one of his trips down into Jack's domain. The bubbly redhead was a nice girl, but she had all the self-preservation instinct of a lemming. Donnelly had tried to break it to her as gently as possible that no, that would be a Very Bad Idea.

There were, occasionally, some breaks in the routine.

* * *

"Now, Shepard," said Donnelly, "I was fine with the crazy biotic criminal squatting under my engineering deck. It's a challenge, I says. It keeps me on me toes, I says." He blew out a breath. "But this?" he exclaimed, throwing one arm towards the looming bulk in front of the two men. "What are we going to _do_ with it?"

"Him, Marcus, not it." Shepard seemed very proud of his new acquisition. "Can you get the tank on the shuttle?"

Donnelly looked sourly at the giant transparent tube, currently filled with liquid and what looked like the biggest krogan he'd ever seen. "Maybe, if we can get it on its side. Can it go on its side?"

"I hope so," said Shepard, "because that's what we're going to do. C'mon, it'll be a conversation piece. You know, for our next gala cocktail party." Shepard gave him a little grin.

The engineer shook his head. "Okay, then. Have to get it out of the room first. Let's see..."

He then looked around. The place looked like...well, it looked like such places usually did after Shepard was through with them. Bullet holes traced crazy looping patterns in the wall next to the tank. There was large panoramic window - broken, of course - that looked out over a larger, cavernous space filled with more birthing tanks. The tanks were open, and their former occupants' hulking bodies were scattered all over. There were even a couple of large mechs that had been turned into burned-out piles of scrap.

In this room, the only corpse Donnelly could see was a large krogan who was crumpled in a heap near the tank. "Who's that poor bugger, then?" he asked.

Shepard cocked his head to one side as he regarded the body. "That was supposed to be our next recruit. Warlord Okeer."

"Ah," Donnelly hadn't dealt with many krogan, but somehow he got the feeling that Okeer had been old. Nobody really knew how long krogan lived, they usually wound up dying violently before old age could claim them. Okeer looked ancient, with a scarred and creased headplate that had clearly seen many battles.

Shepard pointed at Okeer's body. "Take a good look, Marcus, because you'll probably never see it again. That was a krogan scientist."

"Really? Well, I guess there's a first for everything."

Shepard then turned and pointed at the tank. "And that," he said, "is his greatest creation. Or so he claimed, right before he died. Okeer had access to Collector technology, and said he used some of it in making this paperweight. So I'm taking it. Hopefully the occupant will be valuable enough to keep this particular ground op from becoming a complete goat-fuck."

Donnelly stepped forward and peered into the tank. The krogan inside the tank was apparently asleep or comatose. The huge, reptilian body didn't twitch at all. Although Donnelly could swear that he saw a flicker of one yellow eye. Was it...awake? He regarded the krogan's wide and fanged mouth, and stepped back with a shudder.

"I've got no problem with aliens, right?" he said to Shepard. "Hell, we had a turian chap on the _Perugia_ , part of some cultural exchange program. He was a right nice lad. Bit stuffy at first, but damn could he drink. I don't know about this, though. Krogan have a justified reputation. And this laddie will be, well he'll be like a wee baby in a full-grown body. He won't know his own strength."

Shepard shrugged. "Okeer had an imprint program of some sort, to teach them while in the tank. We ran into another tank-born krogan on our way here. The guy actually helped us, and seemed pretty calm. Well, except for the fact that he wanted to wait around for his death. This krogan should be okay. Besides, I haven't decided yet if I want to release him. Let's at least get him out of here."

Donnelly walked over to the door. "Well, Okeer got the tank in here," he said, "so we must be able to move it back out. The door is big enough." He stepped through the door onto the metal landing and looked down. Six stories down was a little courtyard composed of rubble, surrounded by bombed-out buildings. The shuttle was parked in the middle of the courtyard, with Jacob and Zaeed standing guard. Donnelly leaned over the railing and looked at all of the various ramps and stairs leading down to the shuttle.

"Hauling it down that will be a right bitch," he said to himself. There was another ramp going up from the landing, however. Only one story up, and a straight shot at that. He came back in.

"I want to try getting it out via the roof," he told Shepard.

The Commander furrowed his brow. "I don't know, Marcus. The roof might not be able to take the weight of the shuttle. The building probably isn't structurally sound, we had to do quite a bit of shooting in here."

"Yeah, I noticed. But the shuttle can hover while we put our cargo in. I just need to estimate how much he weighs. It has be much less than the shuttle." Donnelly opened his omni-tool and began calculating. "Let's see, call it a cylinder. One point five meters diameter, two point five meters high. Filled with water, we'll assume the body is also about the density of water...okay. And the metal housing is about three centimeters thick...call it two thousand kilos."

The engineer turned back for the door. "I'll go up to the roof and check it out. See if we've got a place big enough for the shuttle, and if it's sturdy enough for our lovely door prize here."

"Hang on," said Shepard. He trotted to catch up with Donnelly. "I'll come with you. We've swept the area and the Blue Suns should be all gone, but I'm not so sure of the roof."

They tramped up the ramp. The sun was red and low in the sky, and a haze hung over the surrounding buildings. The roof had trash and crates scattered everywhere, and the smell of smoke and dust was in the air. Donnelly began picking his way cautiously through the obstacles, setting his feet carefully and listening for any creaking that would indicate danger. He heard Shepard following close behind, setting his own armored boots in the same places where his engineer stepped

"How are you sleeping?" asked Shepard.

Donnelly shrugged. He stopped to press one foot more heavily on a spot where there should be a support beam. Good, there was no flexing under his foot. "My sleep's okay. It's for sure better than it was. I think it's because I'm actually doing something about the Reaper situation. Plus the meditation helps."

"You know, I tried that a couple of times. I never could get it to work. I couldn't force myself to relax enough."

"It's not about forcing, Shepard. You have to realize that you can't control your thoughts, and take it as it comes. You just have to let it be. It all works out eventually. Ah, that looks promising!"

It was a wider area of the roof, free of any large debris. Donnelly nodded in satisfaction. "Plenty big enough for the shuttle." He walked into the center of the possible landing area and went down on one knee to inspect the roof.

"So," he asked Shepard, "once we get the tank on board, where are you planning to put it?"

He heard the amusement in his Commander's voice. "Well, you've got that one corner of Engineering that you don't seem to be using-"

"Shepard, if you put that damn thing anywhere _near_ my drive core, I will have no choice but to break out my bagpipes."

"You don't play the bagpipes."

"I'll _learn_."

There was a soft click of metal, of a gun being cocked. Donnelly heard a new voice, harsh and weathered-sounding. "Freeze, assholes. Try anything, and you get a bullet. Now, you're going to move nice and slow, and get on your radio, and get that shuttle up here. And I'm taking it-"

There was the crunch of a step, followed swiftly by a wet thud. A pause, and then the larger thud of a body hitting the roof. Donnelly stood. He had never even bothered to turn around.

"Those mercs do like to talk, don't they?" he said.

"Christ, don't get me started," replied Shepard. "That Jedore bitch just would not shut _up_."

Donnelly chuckled, and turned around. "This'll do. We'll need to get a couple of lifters and some big lads, but we can do it."

Shepard clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. Make the calls, I'll send the shuttle back up to get what you need."

They began walking back towards the ramp.

"Sooo..." said Shepard, a little too casually, "How are things working out with Jack?"

"We have an agreement," replied Donnelly. "I ignore her completely, and she doesn't rip me head off. It works for both of us."

Shepard pursed his lips. He ran one armored hand through his hair. "That's too bad. I was hoping she would start to become more social. Get out of her shell more. I keep telling her she needs to talk to people."

"See, Shepard," said Donnelly, as the two men headed back down the ramp, "you like helping people, and that's great. But you have to learn that there are some things you just need to let _be_."


	3. Clap Hands

Miranda Lawson tapped a code into her omni-tool and the conference room table smoothly folded itself into the floor. A holographic cage arose in its place, and she stepped forward into its glowing circle. Her eyes took a little time to adjust to the darkness beyond, and then she saw him.

He was lounging in a chair, silhouetted against the swirling maelstrom of a red giant star. She saw the fainter red coal of the man's cigarette as he inhaled. Miranda also caught the blue glow from the man's prosthetic eyes as they regarded her.

"Report, please," said The Illusive Man. His voice was slightly raspy, and much older than his face. It sounded kind and jovial, almost grandfatherly. Miranda was not fooled. She had heard that voice order death for others, had heard it order pain and destruction. All while never losing that kindly tone.

"Dr. Solus has been successfully recruited, and seems to be fitting in well. I'm impressed with his speed; he is already close to recreating one of the Collector Swarm creatures. That makes five successful recruitments of the six we had initially planned for the ground team. Warlord Okeer was killed during his retrieval attempt. Shepard is still determining what he wants to do with Okeer's tank-bred soldier. He is leaning towards releasing it from the tank. I have advised against it. Our plan was to have a specialist on Collector technology, one who had made previous contact with them. We did not plan on just another foot soldier."

"Plans never survive first contact with the enemy, Miranda," said The Illusive Man. He stubbed out his cigarette into an ashtray built into the seat's arm. "Let Shepard have this. We need to maintain his feeling of control."

Miranda nodded. "Our other staffing is complete. We have filled the final staffing positions for the ship's crew. I do have some concerns about the Chief Engineer. The man is competent, but he does not want to wear the uniform. I worry about his long-term loyalty to the mission."

The Illusive Man rocked his head to one side. "Miranda, I don't want a ship full of gung-ho Cerberus loyalists. The reason we primarily staffed with new people was to put our best foot forward with Shepard. If some of them are less than enthusiastic about our cause, that is good. Too much conformity among the crew would appear suspicious. It would appear staged. Shepard isn't a fool."

Miranda nodded. "Of course, sir." She thought a little further. "While we are speaking of non-conforming crew, may I ask if you knew that Archangel was actually Garrus Vakarian?"

There was no response for a bit. The Illusive Man pulled another cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it in a compact, automatic maneuver borne of long practice. Miranda wondered if he simply had his lungs replaced every so often, or if he had other enhancements to prevent long-term damage.

"I suspected it," he said, finally. "There was a better than even chance that Archangel was indeed Mr. Vakarian. And I was pleased to see that it was so."

"Pleased?" Miranda was a little surprised at that. Vakarian was vehemently opposed to Cerberus, and wasn't shy about saying so. His loyalty to Shepard was the only thing keeping the turian in check. She suspected that, left to himself, Garrus would just as soon put a bullet through the head of every Cerberus member on board.

The Illusive Man nodded. "As I said, we need to keep Shepard feeling as if he's in control. Vakarian is one of Shepard's best friends. If we had uprooted Shepard completely, if we had put him in a new ship with an entirely new crew, I fear that he would simply become...disconnected. It is difficult enough that he has to deal with the facts of his death and resurrection. I need him to be as he was. Having some familiar faces around will ground him."

"I see," said Miranda. "I have to admit, Shepard is being quite effective so far. More so than I even hoped for."

"Well, that was one of the reasons I tasked you with his revival." The Illusive Man took another puff of his cigarette. The smoke streamed out of his nostrils as he rubbed one eyebrow. "The Prothean Cipher in his head is valuable enough. But he also has an exceptional talent at getting disparate parties to work together." The Illusive Man gave a smile. "Hell, he even managed to start thawing relations between Cerberus and the quarians. That's something I thought I'd never see."

He leaned a little bit in his chair, as if suddenly tired. "How is EDI working out?" he asked.

Miranda gave a half-shrug. "She's becoming accepted. The primary friction seems to be with Jeff Moreau, but to date it only consists of minor pranks and bickering. The more people work with her, they seem to treat her like just another crewmember. They forget that, as an AI, she is always watching."

"Good. I want her to disappear into the background in their minds. Don't forget, Miranda, that she is your most important tool. I have shown you a great deal of trust in the past, and you have always succeeded where others failed. Now I have placed one of my greatest assets in your hands. Shepard and the _Normandy_ are incredibly valuable, but EDI is irreplaceable. She is the future of Cerberus, and the way forward in fighting the Reapers."

Miranda straightened. "You know I will succeed, sir. You have my complete and total effort."

The Illusive Man smiled and nodded.

* * *

Mordin Solus sang softly as he worked. _"A wandering minstrel I, A thing of shreds and patches, Of ballads, songs and snatches, And dreamy lullaby!"_ He was setting up the newest addition to his lab. The space was lovely. It was far more room than he really needed. And it even had a window! Not to mention he had all the resources he could ask for. He had put in a requisition for some components less than two hours ago, and the 3D printing facilities on the _Normandy_ had already supplied just what he needed. Cerberus was clearly desperate, both in terms of the material they were throwing at the problem and in their new willingness to work with nonhumans.

He was still uneasy about working alongside such an organization. His own time in the salarian Special Tasks Group had taught him of the dangers that could occur when one combined almost unlimited resources with a lack of oversight. From his research into the human extremist group, Cerberus seemed to be comprised of nothing _but_ a lack of oversight. However, while they were fighting the Reapers, Mordin was willing to block his olfactors and keep his misgivings to himself.

He clicked the last component into place and stepped back. The unit's main feature was a sealed, transparent box. Its material was strong enough to withstand sustained gunfire, and Mordin had calculated it should be more than adequate to contain his specimen. There were also various one-way ports along the box's bottom for introducing instrument probes, and two larger ports in the box's back. Mordin was planning to use the latter for testing countermeasures against the cage's occupant.

Mordin nodded to himself in satisfaction, and strolled over to the bench containing the specimen in question. On top of the bench was a small steel case that vibrated every so often with a muffled buzzing. Mordin scooped up the case and placed it into the cage. He sealed the lid and double-checked that the latching mechanism had indeed engaged. The side door of the lab hissed open and Donnelly entered. Mordin hadn't had much interaction with the engineer, but the man seemed friendly and competent.

"Hello, Doctor Solus," he said. "Just here to do some maintenance checks. Is it a good time?"

"Excellent timing, excellent," said Mordin. "Please, about to begin latest round of experiments. Are you willing to assist?"

"Sure, Doctor. As long as no probing's involved." The human chuckled.

Mordin didn't quite know what probing the man meant. Oh well, he would look it up later. "No, just require a human presence," he said. "Should merely have to stand in place. Please, request you to stand in far corner by door to CIC."

Donnelly nodded and moved off to stand in the indicated spot. Mordin saw the human's eyes narrow a bit as he regarded the cage. Mordin did one more walk-around to make sure everything was in place, and then called up his omni-tool. He tapped a few controls, and the steel case inside the cage split open.

Out of the case crawled a bio-mechanical insectoid creature. Its most prominent features were four large wings, two beady yellow eyes, and four very sharp-looking legs. Overall, the creature was about two centimeters long. It perched on top of the case, then rotated in place as if to scan its surroundings. Mordin noted with interest that it looked right at the human in the far corner, but didn't react. He wondered just how short-range its senses were.

"Er, Doc?" said Donnelly. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes," replied Mordin. "Individual specimen of Collector Swarm. Not direct specimen, of course. Had to reconstruct, create clone from biomechanical tissue samples and omni-tool data obtained at Freedom's Progress colony."

The engineer seemed to be eyeing the cage with greater unease. "So that's what the Collectors use for paralyzing their victims, right?"

"Correct. Now, observe!" Mordin walked around the case, gesturing at its occupant. "Swarmer unit clearly uses visual tracking. Eyes follow my movement, body turns to face me. However, no other interest observed. Clearly programmed to ignore salarians."

He turned to face the engineer. "Now please, Engineer Donnelly, be so kind as to begin moving forward. Take one pace, then stop until tell you to move again. Am trying to determine range of Swarmer senses."

"Sure thing, Doc," said Donnelly, and took the requested step forward. "That cage is secure, right?"

"Of course, should be able to contain multiple specimens if required. Hmm, nothing. Please step again."

It wasn't until Donnelly got within about two paces of the cage that the Swarmer finally reacted. It spun in place, regarding the human with its beady eyes, then flung itself against the cage wall in a futile attempt to reach him.

"Excellent!" said Mordin. "Less than two meters effective sensor range. Should make countermeasure development easier. Please, stand in place. Few more tests needed."

He draped a cloth over the side of the cage nearest Donnelly, blocking the man from the creature's view. The insect still buzzed and battered itself against the transparency. "Hmm," mused Mordin, "May not be purely visual detection." He then flushed the cage with pressurized air from the ship's life support system. The Swarmer abruptly stopped its attack and began wandering aimlessly around the bottom of the cage. "Ah, must also detect via smell! Now to seal cage from room air, and-" He whipped the cloth away, and the Swarmer resumed its attempted attack.

Mordin nodded in satisfaction to Donnelly. "Uses both visual and olfactory senses. Hmm. Wonder if can use one against the other? Confuse its ability to identify humans? Must have some threshold in its programming for positive ID-"

"Er, Doc? Is it okay if I move now?"

"Hmm? Oh, fine, fine. Done for now. Please continue your maintenance. Would be willing to participate in future experiments?"

"Sure, as long as it doesn't involve me getting stung by one of those wee beasties."

"No, should not be necessary." Mordin tapped his chin as he regarded the cage. "Need to determine how smell sense works. Trace DNA? Human-specific pheromones? Sweat! Are humans only sapients that use perspiration for cooling?..."

Mordin's brain was occupied almost entirely with the task in front of him. Almost, but not quite. There was a part of his mind that noted the engineer moving past the cage, noted the human beginning to check the various cables that ran through the rear of the lab.

Hmm...now why was Donnelly doing it in _that_ particular way?

* * *

Jacob handed the assault rifle to Grunt. It took some mental effort for him to do it; every instinct in him was screaming at him not to. And it wasn't because Grunt was a krogan. Shepard had vouched for the recently-decanted super soldier, and that was good enough for Jacob. But Grunt was also technically only a few days old. Sure, Jacob had heard that Okeer had somehow imparted a lot of knowledge into Grunt while he'd been in the tank. But that was no substitute for the real world. Jacob felt like he was handing a dangerous weapon to an infant.

"Here you go, Grunt," he said aloud. The krogan deftly plucked the rifle from Jacob's hands. "Now," he continued, "this is a heavily modified M-8 Avenger. I've altered the stock and grip placement to fit your physique. This rifle also has upgraded ammunition and extra heat clip storage. I figured you wouldn't mind the extra weight."

"It still feels light," rumbled Grunt. The krogan held the rifle up and gave it a closer inspection. The weapon looked like a toy in the huge alien's hands. Jacob was pleased to see that Grunt could at least handle a weapon properly. He had his finger alongside the trigger, not on it. He also kept the muzzle pointing at the floor of the hanger bay instead of wildly waving it around. Maybe this tank-imprinting stuff would help after all. Jacob pointed down to the far end of the hangar towards the shuttle doors. There, he had set up a metal crate and pinned a large bulls-eye target to it.

"Okay," he said, "in your own time, go ahead and try it out."

Grunt faced the target, and clicked off the safety. "Weapon hot," he said. Then in a blur of movement he brought the rifle up and cracked off two sets of three-round bursts. Jacob was startled at the krogan's speed; he was expecting the alien to be much more lumbering and deliberate in his movements. Grunt lowered the rifle and clicked the safety back on.

They both walked over to the target. There were two neat little clusters of holes in it. The clusters just straddled each side of the bulls-eye. Grunt gave out a satisfied ' _hrrm_ '.

"That's, um, that's really good," said Jacob. "Especially since you've never handled a weapon before."

"Yes, Okeer's imprinting appears to have been successful." Jacob was expecting some kind of emotional response from Grunt when the krogan mentioned his creator. However, there was not a single flicker in Grunt's impassive face. They headed back to the table at the other end. Jacob had several weapons spread out on it. He was feeling much better about the whole exercise now. Maybe this would work out after all.

"The rifle is an effective weapon," said Grunt, "but somehow it feels unsuitable for me. Perhaps this one?" He indicated a shotgun on the table.

Jacob smiled. "You're a man after my own heart, Grunt," he said.

Grunt cocked his head. "I am not a man. Not human. And I have two hearts."

"Um, it's just a figure of speech." He took the rifle from Grunt and handed him the large shotgun. "This is a Vindicator class, modified for your grip same as the rifle. This weapon has the option of concussive rounds, and also has an improved heat clip capacity."

Grunt looked at the shotgun. To Jacob, it looked more appropriate in the krogan's hands. But it was still a little small. Grunt took up a firing position and once again clicked off the safety. "Weapon hot," said the krogan.

The shotgun boomed, and Jacob saw the center of the bulls-eye vaporize.

"Nice!" he said. "Now, to switch to concussive shot, press that button in front of the trigger assembly-"

There was another, even larger boom. The target was now simply gone, and the metal crate was deeply dented. Jacob could even swear that the entire crate had been moved back a few tens of centimeters.

"Much better," said Grunt. "This weapon will suffice." He took another look at the shotgun in his scaly hands. "But it still feels a little unsubstantial. Perhaps there is something..." he trailed off.

"Bigger?" offered Jacob. Grunt nodded, with a hopeful look on his face. Somehow Jacob was reminded of a puppy being offered a treat. A very _big_ puppy.

Jacob sighed. "Well, I did find some specs for a shotgun called a Claymore. There's warnings smeared all over the plans, it apparently kicks something fierce when fired. I'll have the 3D printing facility get a prototype put together and we'll try it out."

For the first time, Grunt smiled at Jacob. Given the size of the krogan's head, it was an impressive and very toothy smile.

* * *

"Welcome, everyone," said Shepard. "Due to our unique mission and staffing needs, some of the ground team will also be taking on roles on board. I wanted to get the senior staff together just to make sure we all know who's doing what." The Commander's blue-gray eyes flickered over the room. They were all crowded into the little conference room behind the CIC. Donnelly was near the back, standing in parade rest with his hands behind his back. He thought the Commander was looking better; his facial scars were certainly healing.

"I'll cover ship-board staff first," Shepard continued. "You all know the XO, Miranda Lawson. There may be some ground operations which require her particular abilities, but where possible we will try to have either myself or her on board. Doctor Chakwas is Chief Medical Officer, and Mr. Donnelly is Chief Engineer. The Head Science Officer position has now been filled by Doctor Mordin Solus. Again, he may be required for ground work in particular situations."

The salarian nodded his head amiably at the assembled staff.

"We didn't have an acting Gunnery Officer assigned," Shepard continued, "and so Garrus Vakarian will be filling that role." The turian gave a little greeting wave to them all with one clawed hand. Donnelly saw that the right side of Garrus's armor-plated face was a mess of bandages and prosthetics; he was clearly still healing from some massive injury. But the turian looked cheerful in spite of that.

"I should also mention," continued Shepard, "If both XO Lawson and I are off the ship, Garrus is acting CO."

Shepard indicated the man standing to his right. "Jacob Taylor's primary role is armorer for the ground team," he continued. "However, we are in a region of space where boarding by hostile parties is possible. Therefore, Jacob will be issuing sidearms to all ship-board personnel _and_ will be holding regular firearms training to make sure everyone knows how to use them. Everyone here is responsible for making sure that you and your staff are qualified on firearms usage. I know a lot of us have military training, but shooting is a perishable skill. We will be holding regular repel-boarding drills. As much as I like you all, if any of your sections do not do well during those drills I will be roasting your ass until they do."

The hard look on his face eased. "And, last but not least, we have Ms. Kasumi Goto-" Shepard broke off as he looked around the room in irritation. "Damn it, Kasumi-"

"Oh, _fine_ " said a contralto voice from the empty air near Donnelly's elbow. He started a bit as the space next to him was suddenly filled with a petite hooded form. The newcomer was _tiny_ , and clad in a black catsuit. She stuck out her tongue at Shepard. "You're no fun."

"No fun at all, Kasumi," replied Shepard. "As I was going to say, Ms. Goto will be filling a very ancient and time-honored naval role."

"You going to tell us, John, or should we place bets?" asked Garrus.

Shepard smiled. "She's the ship's scrounger."

Kasumi pouted. "I don't like the sound of that," she said.

Shepard grinned wider. "You'll like what it _is_ , though. We have a decent operating budget thanks to our sponsors. However, we're in the Terminus systems operating out of a vessel based on Alliance specs. Which in turn assumes Alliance supply chains. Much of what we need may be simply too expensive, or hard to get, or, um..."

"Owned by someone else?" asked Garrus sweetly.

"For obvious reasons," Shepard continued, "any requests to Kasumi should be made in person. No email, no paper trail. Just tell her what you need. She has a very good memory. I trust you all to not abuse this resource. That's all for now."

The staff began to disperse. Kasumi craned her head back and smiled at Donnelly. There was an interesting swatch of purple color under her chin, and her black eyes glittered from under her hood. "So, Mr. Donnelly," she said, "I hope you have lots of requests. I could use a challenge."

Donnelly smiled back. "Nothing too outlandish. There's a couple of items I'd like to have more stock of..." he glanced around. "Um, I guess I should tell you in private. Plausible deniability, and all that."

"Oh yes, you big strapping man. You should come to my boudoir." Kasumi tilted her head to one side. "Actually, I guess it's not much of a boudoir. I mean, there's a big observation window. Anyone could look in and see us in locked in the throes of passion."

Garrus's flanged, reverberating voice came over Donnelly's shoulder. "So how much passion does there need to be for more than one throe? What's the exchange rate? Does a forehead touch count as one throe?"

Donnelly turned, and now it was his turn to crane his neck. He'd forgotten how damn _big_ turians were. "I'd count it the same as a peck on the cheek," he said. "Call it one-half throe." Garrus's mandibles spread in a turian smile as they shook hands.

"Sorry we weren't formally introduced, Chief Donnelly" said Garrus. "My arrival on the ship was a little exciting." He indicated his injuries with one talon. "It turns out, you _can_ block a missile with your face, but it's a one-time-only trick."

"Aw, don't worry Garrus," chirped Kasumi. "You're still a hottie. I'll give you at least three throes, anytime you want." She gave them a little bow. "Gentlemen." She was suddenly gone, seeming to dissolve into the air.

Garrus snorted. "I am still getting used to that. So, Chief Donnelly-"

"You can call me Marcus. It looks like we're going to be less formal than Alliance or turian regs."

"Yeah, it's just like old times. Shepard has weird ideas about crew interaction, but it does seem to work. Anyway, I have some notions on a main weapon upgrade and I need your input on how much excess power we have available..."

* * *

Jack's cheek slapped hard into the floor of the hangar. She groaned, feeling her arm twisted behind her at an awkward angle. Shepard released her arm and stepped back. She flopped over and glared at him. Then she glared at the rest of the ground team, who were positioned at various points throughout the hanger space.

"Okay, what went wrong there, people?" he asked. His voice was mild and even. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"You. Fucker," said Jack, who _was_ breathing hard. She got her breath under control, with some effort. "There is no way somebody as big as you should be able to move that fast." She got to her feet.

He bowed a little to her. "And that is the problem, Jack. You have to understand. You must all understand this," he continued, addressing the others. "You are used to dealing with mercs or pirates. That experience is useless here. The force we are facing is old and powerful. The Collectors have been reported in the Terminus systems for at least the last two _thousand_ years."

He paused to let that sink in. "They are ruthless, and they have capabilities we cannot even guess at. And they will have no mercy whatsoever." He turned again, facing Jack. "The only possible way we can face them and win is to fight as a _team_. Jack, you rushed me as if I was a mech. I know you can handle mechs. But I am not a mech, I have judgement."

Jack's breath was back in control. She planted her feet and glared at Shepard, feeling the familiar, almost sexual thrill up her spine. The thrill of certain violence. "Let's try again, fucker."

Shepard shook his head. "You will lose again. Your role in this particular exercise is to distract, to disrupt the enemy's concentration. You need to get their attention on you but not engage them in direct melee combat. That way, you give the opportunity for Garrus to make his shot." Shepard pointed over her shoulder. She turned and saw the damn turian. Garrus was tucked into one upper corner of the hanger deck, and he waved at them both with a cheeky grin on his face. His sniper rifle was trained on the two of them, steady as a rock, with no waver.

"Or," Shepard continued, "you might give Zaeed the opportunity to throw a grenade." He nodded at the mercenary. "Or for Kasumi, wherever she is, to get a kidney shot in. Or for Grunt to wade in and just punch the bastard."

"I promise it would be a mighty blow, Shepard," said the krogan.

"I'm sure. My point being, Jack, you are too valuable to waste as just a brawler. You have to understand the concept of combined arms."

Jack shrugged. She was tired of hearing the fucking Boy Scout talk. "Whatever."

"Okay." He turned his back to her. "Let's go again, people."

Jack didn't run, didn't yell. She just launched herself at him like a blue-tinged missile. It was an attack that he couldn't possibly counter.

And yet he did. And this time, he wasn't as gentle with her.

* * *

Donnelly entered the red-lit subfloor space, part of his normally scheduled rounds. He noted that Jack was sporting a fresh shiner around her right eye and had a bandage covering her left forearm. She didn't look up as Donnelly entered. She also wasn't, for once, scanning through OSDs or making notes. She just sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall, with her forearms resting on her knees.

Donnelly didn't say anything, as was his usual. He tapped a few notes into his omni-tool and got to work. After a few minutes, he could swear he felt Jack's eyes boring into the back of his neck. He ignored it and kept working.

"So you're not gonna ask, huh?" she said, after a few more minutes had passed.

Donnelly pulled a probe out of a conduit's test port. "You threatened unseemly violence on my daddy-bags if I spoke to you, ma'am. I assumed that was still the case."

"You know, I just can't figure you out. Anybody else would have at least asked what happened. Your fuckin' boyfriend Shepard sure as shit would have."

Donnelly finally turned and looked at her. "Lass, I'm a simple man. What with all of the threats and the cursing, you made it quite clear that you do not want anything to do with me." He crossed his arms. "So I am honoring that request and leaving you alone."

Jack snorted. "I ask people to leave me alone all the time. Don't change things. They still want to use me, or pity me, or _analyze_ me, or fuck me. Sometimes all at once. What do you want to do to me?"

"I told you. Nothing."

"Bullshit," snapped Jack. "You've been eyeing me since that first day, and you're coming down here all the time-"

"Let's get a couple of things straight, _Jack_ ," interrupted Donnelly. He felt the beginnings of rage, a slight tingle in the back of his head. He held up one thick finger. "One. You are a lovely looking lass and you barely wear anything and I am a heterosexual male with a pulse. So yes, I looked. I looked _once_."

"Two," he continued, adding another finger, "The reason I keep coming down here, as you say, is because you decided to put your fucking BED in the middle of MY. FUCKING. WORKSPACE!"

The yell filled the little space. Donnelly spread his arms out. "I do not have a choice. I have to work in here. This is a warship, and if I don't do my fucking job then we all fucking DIE. Do you FUCKING get it?"

Jack leaned back on her elbows. She looked oddly placid. "I think that's the first time I've heard you swear, Assface."

"Well, I'm happy you were here to see it. Maybe I should get a little fucking plaque and stick it on the fookin' wall to mark the occasion. Get it through your thick fookin' head. I do not give two shits about you. I will keep coming down here. I will do my fookin' damn job and I will leave you the fook alone. Okay? Are we done here?"

Jack grinned without humor. "Yeah, we're done. Assface."


	4. I Don't Wanna Grow Up

Rogers looked over his shoulder as Donnelly came stomping back into Main Engineering. The dark-haired assistant engineer had his usual peeved look on his face.

"Everything okay, Chief?" Rogers asked. "I heard some yelling."

Donnelly almost snapped at him, but then calmed himself. Rogers might be a sour puss, but that was no reason for him to bear the brunt of Donnelly's anger.

"Fine," said Donnelly, almost gritting his teeth. "Everything's just fine. I'm going on break. Be back in a couple of hours. Ping me if anything crops up."

It was a pity the doors on the _Normandy_ were all automated. Donnelly really wanted to slam the door as he left, just on general principle.

* * *

Grunt hummed happily to himself as he finished sharpening his newest acquisition. The krogan was sitting on a small crate he'd appropriated as a chair, in the cargo hold that he's also appropriated for his quarters. The larger shotgun that Jacob was putting together should be very suitable for most situations. However, Okeer's memories and instructions also touted the virtues of a backup edged weapon in case of close-quarters combat. Since a simple knife did not have moving parts, Grunt decided that his imprinting gave him enough expertise to just make the requisition directly to the ship's AI. In short order, he'd received the weapon. All it needed was a little refining of the edge, and it should be perfect.

The door to the cargo hold hissed open, and Jacob poked his head in. "Hi, Grunt," he said. "I just got that prototype Claymore finished up. Wanna go try it out?" The human took a closer look at what Grunt was doing. "Um, where did you get that?"

"The _Normandy's_ printing facility, of course," replied Grunt. He set down the sharpening stone and held the knife up. He tested the edge with one thumb. "The blade design is one from Okeer's memories. It should suffice."

"You should have asked me. We do have knives available."

Grunt shook his head. "Knives made for your hands are not suitable for mine." He held up one huge paw and waggled his fingers. "Besides, you humans have silly notions about proper knife length."

"Okay, I'll give you the hand thing," replied Jacob. " But don't you think that's a little, er, too big? People will think you're overcompensating." The human gave a laugh.

Grunt just didn't get the human sense of humor. "Overcompensating for what?"

"It's a standard joke, you know, if somebody's got a big long...you know what? I'm not your dad, and I'm not going to explain it."

He suddenly understood what the human was implying. "Ah! People might see it as a symbolic mating organ! It is not a concern to me. Okeer made sure I was the ultimate krogan in every way." Grunt thought a bit more. "Do you think that carrying this will cause confusion as to its true purpose? I can forego wearing pants, just to make certain there is no doubt."

Jacob coughed a bit. "I really don't think you'll need to do that, Grunt. Go ahead, wear a big-ass knife if it makes you happy."

Grunt smiled. "Shepard has promised me that we will fight big enemies. They will require properly sized weapons."

The human shrugged. "If you say so. Speaking of big-ass weapons, let's go try out that Claymore."

That sounded wonderful to Grunt. He stood up and drove the knife into a nearby crate. It made a satisfying _thunk_ and also made the human give an equally satisfying little jump.

* * *

One corner of the _Normandy's_ hanger deck had been set aside as a makeshift gym. Aside from the usual weights and treadmills, somebody had put up a couple of speed bags and a heavy punching bag. The current heavy bag was a replacement, since Grunt had destroyed the first bag inside of ten seconds. The tank-born krogan had been given a support column nearby to beat on instead, and Donnelly checked it once in a while to make sure it wasn't getting too warped.

Donnelly was now working the heavy bag, shuffling, light on his feet. He relished the force of each hit, feeling the impact travel up his forearms. The old combinations he'd learned long ago moved through him, and he danced without thinking as the bag jerked on its chain.

"Marcus?"

He came to a stop, breathing heavily. His tee shirt was plastered to his torso, and his short red hair was damp with sweat.

"Hello, Ms. Chambers."

"Please, call me Kelly." The ship's yeoman and 'unofficial' shrink stood off just outside the little gym area. She had her usual perky smile plastered on her face. Donnelly looked over at her as his breathing slowed. Chambers was too much of a Cerberus fan for him to really trust her, but he couldn't be mean to her. It would be like kicking a puppy.

"Okay, Kelly. What can I do for you?"

EDI's soft, modulated voice filled the area. "Mr. Donnelly, I notified Ms. Chambers that you had been working out three times longer than usual. Such a departure from normal behavior is an indicator of possible psychological stress. It is my duty to keep Ms. Chambers informed of any such departures from the norm. Logging out."

Kelly shifted on her feet a little uncertainly. "Don't get mad at EDI, Marcus," she said. "I've got her on the lookout for anything that could be an issue. I just wanted to check in, you know? It's good to get small problems taken care of before they become big problems."

Donnelly looked away from her. "I appreciate the concern, Kelly. But I'm alright." He began to attack the bag again. Jab, jab, cross. "Just realized I've been sitting on my arse too much. Getting fat." Straight, straight, and slip. Hook, straight, uppercut. "Too much work and no play, right?" He stopped talking as he really started to hit. Jab, straight, hook, overhand right. The bag really jerked at that last punch, and Donnelly smiled to himself. Since his youth, he'd been really proud of his overhand right. Of course, that had been before he'd met Grunt. He'd never thought he'd meet someone who could literally punch a heavy bag in half.

Kelly crossed her arms. "Getting rid of stress is fine, Marcus. But if the source of the stress isn't dealt with, it just doesn't help."

Donnelly almost told her to bugger off, but instead stopped punching and grabbed the bag to stop its swinging. "Fine. Let me ask you something, Kelly."

Kelly's smile brightened. "Of course!"

"You deal with people, right? That's your thing? Your unofficial role on the ship?"

"Yes...?"

He stared at the bag for a bit. "How can you stand it?"

Kelly shrugged. "I love people. It's true, while I'm in my 'unofficial' role I usually have to deal with people at their worst. But when you can help, there is no better feeling. And I'm not always on the job with them, you know. It may be unorthodox in the usual clinical circles, but it's great fun to go out on the town and cut loose with someone who's just made a breakthrough."

Donnelly began trying to take his gloves off. "Did you need a hand?" Kelly asked.

He considered using his teeth instead, but then held out one hand. Kelly yanked on the glove's velcro strap, then pulled it off.

"Thanks. See, the thing is," said Donnelly as she started on the other glove, "I love machines. They do what you expect them to do. No more, no less. Yeah, they break sometimes when you don't expect but that's entropy for you."

Kelly handed him his gloves and he nodded at her. "But people," he continued. "I just don't _get_ people. Someone tells you 'This is the way I want it'. You say okay, and do exactly that. Then all of a sudden, they get pissed at you and say 'No, now _this_ is the way I want it.' And it's somehow your damn fault for not realizing the rules have changed."

Kelly patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Marcus. Is it girl trouble?"

Donnelly gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, please. I've been living like a damn monk ever since I got on this ship. You should know that. What with EDI keeping tabs on us and all." He put the heavy bag gloves into his duffel and pulled out a water bottle.

"It must be Jack, then."

He took a swig of water and looked at Kelly with new respect. "What makes you say that?"

"Because she's really good at pushing buttons. She's picked fights with half of the crew, and has the other half just plain terrified. I really don't know how Shepherd is keeping her working with the ground team."

"Well, that's _his_ thing, you know? His specialty."

Kelly nodded and waited. Donnelly stared off into space, the water bottle forgotten.

"And what the hell do I care what some crazy murderer thinks, anyway?" he finally said, and took another swig. "I'm not stupid. I know you don't get sent to Purgatory for shoplifting. You gotta kill people to get in there, a lot of people. But I wasn't gonna judge, you know? What with me working for terrorists and all." Donnelly glanced over at Kelly. "Present company excluded, of course."

Kelly gave an arch smile. "It's okay. It's nothing I haven't heard before."

He drained the rest of the bottle. "Yells at me for looking at her," he grumbled. "Bouncing around with her tits hanging out, and I look _once_ , and now somehow I'm the dirty bugger."

The psychologist tilted her head. "She does have nice tits, doesn't she? And I would love to grab a double handful of that tight ass."

Donnelly looked over at her, unamused. "You know," he said, "I think it would be better if she was some kind of horrible-looking beast. It would match what she really is inside. But nooooo, the mass-murderer has to look like a goddamn supermodel."

Kelly took a step closer. "Don't be too hard on her, Marcus. I've read her file. We're not quite sure where she's from, but Jack has never had what anyone would call a stable life. She's been on the run since she was a kid. Most...probably all of the people she's killed were about to do the same to her. You need to understand her."

"Understand. Right. I have to understand people." There was another long pause. "You know," he said, "back in the day I would have made a really good hermit."

Kelly touched his forearm, "It would do you good to socialize more. And drinking with Zaeed does not count. There's a lot of good people on this ship."

"I know," said Donnelly. And that was the problem, wasn't it? This wasn't a group of fire-breathing radicals, these were friendly, good people. He was sure that Cerberus had picked them all for just that reason. And Donnelly had, for his part, kept his distance from them all. Oh, he was polite and professional. But his off-duty hours were spent apart from them in meditation or in exercise or, yes, in having a few drinks with Zaeed.

"I'll keep it in mind, Kelly. Thanks." Donnelly had to admit, talking with her had helped him calm down. Now he just needed a shower and he'd be ready to face Rogers and his sour face. He heard the elevator door open, and after a bit Jacob and Grunt came around the corner into the hangar. The armorer carried over one shoulder a long, bulky parcel wrapped in cloth. Grunt was following him close behind, and seemed to be almost bouncing in excitement.

"I should be the first to shoot it, Jacob," said Grunt. His tone reminded Donnelly of a kid on Christmas morning.

"I'm the armorer for the ship, Grunt," replied Jacob. "I know what I'm doing. I need to do the first couple of practice shots, just to make sure the gun is working properly. Then it's all yours."

Donnelly and Kelly looked at each other. "This had the makings of something very funny or very tragic," he murmured to her.

"Or both," she murmured back. "We should sell tickets."

* * *

Jacob was now wishing he'd never brought up the damn Claymore as a weapon option. Grunt was getting to be a big pain in the ass about it.

"Now can you do the practice shot?" asked the krogan. Jacob tried not to notice how the alien was looming over him.

"Yes, Grunt. I just needed to check that the heat sink ejector works and that the sink magazine feeds correctly. Don't worry, I'm going to do the practice shots next." Jacob took a look over his shoulder and was irritated even further. It looked like half the damn crew was now lining the far wall of the hangar deck. Most of them seemed to have huge grins on their faces, as if anticipating some spectacular failure.

"You people are wasting your time," he called out to them. "It's a bigger gun, but there's nothing that dangerous about it." Jacob looked over his safety precautions again. He had a large pad of absorbing foam between the butt of the stock and his shoulder and another bit of foam between his forearm and the Claymore's barrel. Overall the gun was a little awkward to wield, since it was sized for Grunt, but that shouldn't affect things much.

"Okay, here we go," said Jacob, trying to sound very calm and in control. He tried to ignore the collective intake of breath behind him. "Firing in three...two...one."

 _BOOOOOM_

"OUCHMOTHERFUCKINGGODDAMMIT!"

* * *

"So, Jacob," asked Chakwas. "How did this happen, exactly?" She was a little peeved; she'd just been sitting down to a nice cup of tea when it seemed like half the crew of the ship came bursting into the medbay, led by Jacob. This nonsense had interrupted one of the few calm periods she'd had, what with all of of the patching-up of the ground team and the physicals for new recruits.

"Just a little, um, training accident, doc," said Jacob. He sat on a stool with his shirt off, and was cradling his right arm. As Chakwas prodded here and there on his right shoulder, he gave a couple of little grunts of pain. Chakwas heard a couple of snickers behind her, and turned. There were a few stragglers still in the medbay, and she gave them her best 'Doctor In Charge' glare.

"I think I have everything quite well in hand, _thank_ you very much," she said in a frosty tone. They at least had the decency to look a little ashamed as they slunk out. She turned back to the sheepish-looking armorer and examined a few more areas around his shoulder.

"Well, it looks like you somehow managed to dislocate your shoulder pretty thoroughly. We need to get this reduced. Now I'm going to move very slowly. You need to relax."

"This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"

"It hurts now, correct? This will make it hurt less. Give me your arm." She took Jacob's right arm and gently moved it into an 'L' shape. It wasn't as easy as it should have been; the young man was subconsciously fighting her. Given his sheer muscle mass, that would make this more difficult.

"I said relax, Jacob."

"I am relaxed," gritted the armorer.

"If you say so. Did I ever tell you about the time I went undercover as a pole dancer in Chora's Den?"

Jacob looked at her in shock. "What? When-AAAAH" Chakwas smoothly rotated his arm out and pushed up, and felt the joint slide back into place.

"Aaaand we're done. That wasn't so bad, was it?" She patted his other shoulder. ignoring his betrayed look. "Now hold that arm, I'll get you a sling and some medi-gel. Keep from using your right arm for about a day, and let the medi-gel repair any soft tissue damage. Would you like a painkiller or two?"

"No thanks, doc, I'll be fine."

She stood up and rolled her eyes. "Soldiers. You always have to prove how tough you are. Maybe I should just stock a selection of bullets for you to bite on."

* * *

The snow crunched under Shepard's boots. His surroundings were almost monochromatic, all black rock and white ice. The palette was only broken up by the occasional scrap of Alliance-blue metal. Shepard's breath sounded harshly in his helmet as he climbed a little ridge and gave one last scan of the crash site. The pouch at his side jingled with the dog tags that he'd managed to retrieve from the wreckage. It was very quiet, almost peaceful. All that was left was to place the small monument that Admiral Hackett had sent to him.

He almost wanted to place it right next to the largest intact piece of the _Normandy._ It was a swatch of the upper hull that still had the ship's name visible. But he took another circuit through the wreckage, just to make sure. He took a final, lingering look at the Mako. The vehicle was jammed at a awkward angle into a rock outcropping. Shepard smiled sadly. He could almost hear Lieutenant Williams' sarcastic comments. She had always been the most critical of his driving. And that thought made him finally decide on a proper location. He turned away from the Mako and examined the surroundings more carefully. If the Mako was there, then the hangar should be...ah, this must be the place. There wasn't much left, just a few scraps of bulkhead. But it was enough to know for certain.

Shepard knelt and placed the small bronze plaque. He touched a button on its side, and a holographic image of the _Normandy_ in full flight appeared above the plaque. The monument had a small nuclear battery that should keep the image going for at least a couple of hundred years. He regarded the monument in silence for a little while and then finally spoke. They were the first words he'd said since landing on Alchera.

"I'm sorry, Ash. It should have been me who stayed dead, and not you."

* * *

Shepard sat on the couch in his cabin, nursing a glass of scotch. He'd procured the bottle from Kasumi, who had passed it over after one look at his face. He was a little afraid to go to sleep. Before his death, he would often have nightmares about the vision from the Prothean beacon. That was bad enough, with its glimpses of living creatures being shredded and warped into new and horrible shapes by the Reapers.

Lately, his death over Alchera had begun to dominate his dreams. Shepard would feel again that horrible strangling panic as the air in his suit bled out through a damaged connector. He would see again the tumbling wreck of the original _Normandy_ as it was cut to pieces. He would feel again the knowledge that he was a dead man.

And now he was dead no longer. Shepard brought the tumbler up to eye level and regarded it. He let go of the glass and ran one hand thoughtfully over his chin. The glass began, ever so slowly, to drop. He watched with amusement as the brown liquor inside slowly sloshed and rocked like lukewarm molasses. Shepard tilted his head and kept watching the glass inch downwards.

He could have looked closer and seen his reflection in the glass, but he chose not to. Shepard didn't like looking in mirrors lately. The network of scars on his face from the Lazarus Project were almost gone. But also gone were all of his old scars. He'd had a small one that cut through his right eyebrow, picked up during his actions during the Skyllian Blitz. Another one along his left jawline, from a boarding action just before being assigned to Captain Anderson on the original _Normandy._

They were all going away, leaving nothing but unblemished skin. Lately he was wondering if he was still really himself, still Shepard. Or maybe he was just an abstraction. Maybe he was just the idea of Shepard, cloaked in synthetic flesh and shocked to life by a genetically enhanced superwoman with a chip on her shoulder.

Eventually, Shepard put out his hand and watched the tumbler slowly nestle into his palm. A little of the scotch splashed over the lip of the glass, forming a droplet that dangled in space. He snapped himself back into normal time and watched the droplet land with the usual speed onto his hand.

At least some of the old crew was here. Joker, Chakwas and now Garrus. They were his anchors, they were the measuring tools that he could use to gauge himself. Shepard wished that Tali had been able to come as well. Seeing his quarian friend on Freedom's Progress had been heartwarming. He had been surprised at the lift in his chest when he had seen her. However, the joy was short-lived after her accusations of Cerberus involvement.

He'd told her he was using Cerberus, not the other way around. They had the resources and the desire to do what needed to be done, and so he would take what they offered in the name of pragmatism. But he wouldn't trust them, not one bit. Shepard wondered, not for the first time, if his eyes were beaming video straight into The Illusive Man's office. They had sworn no such tampering had been performed. Also, Dr. Chakwas had scanned him and pronounced him clean...using Cerberus-supplied equipment.

He yawned, and set the glass down on the table next to him. Maybe if he slept on the couch, it would help. He would take a stiff back over nightmares. It _was_ s very comfortable couch; he was sure that Cerberus had spared no expense in furnishing his cabin.

Shepard dimmed the cabin lights and stretched out. He was just about to drop off when EDI broke in. "Apologies, Shepard. The Illusive Man has requested a call."

"Of course he has. Thanks, EDI. I'll be right down."

* * *

He clings to the hull, a small fragile creature facing the ultimate apex predator. The red eye glares, sending an angry beam lancing past him. He knows that, behind him, another ship has died. He screams in his helmet, feeling the sound of his panic reverberate around his head. It is too much, just too much-

And then the evil black shape speaks, a hideous horn-call of sound that presses through the void separating them. A sound that has physical force and weight. It speaks his name, it _knows him_ -

 ** _DONNELLY. JOIN._**

The engineer jerked awake with a moan. The sheets of his bunk were thrashed and tangled around him. His shirt was damp. He took a breath and tried to relax.  
Another nightmare. It was his first in a while; he had hoped that being on the Collector mission would have banished such things. Now that he was awake, he began to rationalize to himself. The dream was ridiculous. Yes, Sovereign had somehow made a sound that he had heard, but it had never spoken his name. That was a little addition by his stupid hindbrain.

He sat up and swung his legs down, letting out another little moan. His workout the other day had been the first serious one he'd undertaken since joining the _Normandy_ , and his body wasn't yet used to it. It would recover, he knew from past experience. He'd be fine, he just needed time to get back into the swing of things. And he needed to get more regular exercise. He dressed, opened his door, and padded down the corridor to the men's communal bathroom. After using the facilities, he splashed cold water on his face. That made him feel better, although he decided that a cup of tea would be even nicer.

The mess was empty at this late hour except for a tattooed, half-naked figure eating at one of the long tables. Jack had a pouch of one of the pre-made rations in one hand, and was shoveling its contents into her mouth with a plastic spoon. Donnelly hesitated as he saw her, then decided 'to hell with it' and kept walking towards the kitchen area. He filled the electric kettle with water, then grabbed a mug and tea bag.

"Y'know, Assface," said Jack, "I'm glad you yelled at me." Her voice was slightly muffled, since she was chewing on a spoonful of goulash.

"Oh? Why is that?" asked Donnelly. He turned to look at her. She was facing away from him. The scars on her back were thrown into stark contrast by the mess's fluorescent lighting.

"Because I was starting to think you were a pussy. But you got some spine in you."

"I see." He almost said something else, then decided now was not the time for sarcasm. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Jack turned and looked over her shoulder at him. The one eyebrow he could see was cocked, as if to say _are you fucking kidding?_ Then she shrugged and turned away. "Sure, why not?"

The kettle clicked as it finished heating. Donnelly grabbed another mug and teabag, then filled the mugs from the kettle. He brought the tea over to Jack's table and set one mug in front of her as he took a seat facing her.

"Thanks," she said. She spooned more goulash into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully as she looked at him. Donnelly looked back as he dunked his teabag. It seemed like Jack was sorting through several questions in her mind. "So how'd you break your nose?" she finally asked.

"I walked into a door."

"It's been broken a _lot_."

Donnelly smiled. "I'm really clumsy."

"Fine, be that way. You know, the 'dark, mysterious past' thing is supposed to be my schtick." She chased the last bits of food out of the pouch and chewed them with evident satisfaction. Donnelly took a sip of his tea. Oddly, he actually enjoyed the silence while sitting here with her. Jack set the pouch and spoon down, then rested her arms on the table.

"Okay, then," she said. "Fair trade. You can ask me something, if you want to. Even though you didn't really answer me."

Donnelly shrugged. "I don't have anything I want to ask."

"C'mon, there's gotta be something. You at least want to ask me about all the tats. Shit, everybody asks about that."

Donnelly sipped more tea. "I figured they were something you wanted to do, for reasons that seem good to you. It's nothing to do with me." He looked more closely at her. "Um, you _did_ want to have all of those tattoos, right?"

Jack smiled. It was small and sarcastic, but it was a genuine smile. "Yeah, Assface, I did." Then she cocked her head in thought. "Actually, that's not really true. These ones here," she indicated patterned bands on both sides of her shaved head. "That was from when I joined a cult. That's also where I picked up the 'do." She rubbed her scalp. "But it wasn't like the cult guys held me down or anything. It was just a, whaddyacall, requirement to join."

She picked up her mug and regarded its contents with suspicion. "Anyway, that was my first bit of ink. After I...left the cult, I decided that since I had the first one I may as well keep going. See how far I could push it, right?"

Donnelly glanced over the patchwork of ink that covered Jack's slender, muscled frame. There were flames, skulls, mythic figures, and some abstract linear markings that reminded him of electronic circuit designs. "I guess they all have meanings?" he asked.

"Yep. Some only I'm ever going to know. Some are for people I've killed." Jack was watching his face closely when she said the last. "That doesn't bother you?" she added.

Donnelly shook his head. He'd thought about it further, since his conversation with Kelly. "No, it doesn't. Hell, I figure I've killed plenty myself."

"You? I can't picture it. You're Mister Squeaky-Clean Engineer."

"Engineers keep ships going. Warships, in my case. And warships kill people in wholesale lots." He looked down at his mug. "I've been on ships in a few engagements. And also in on one big battle. I figure I've probably helped kill at least two hundred, all told. Most of them were slavers and pirates, but still people."

Jack finally look a sip of her tea, then made a face. "Ugh, this shit is bitter. I don't agree with that, by the way. You didn't shoot them directly. You didn't see their faces. I have. Well, for most of my kills I have."

He nodded. "True, but I still bear responsibility. I knew what doing my job would ultimately entail."

Jack thought a bit, and took an automatic sip of tea. She didn't make a face this time. "But you were wearing a uniform, too. I'm guessing you were Alliance, right?"

"Yes, I was. But the uniform was just a, I don't know, a societal nicety. It doesn't change the fact that I did those things, killed those people."

"Hmmm." Jack stared into space as she drank her tea. "Is that why you won't wear the Cerberus uniform? So you can show that you're still your own man?"

"A little bit, I suppose. Plus I tend to have trust issues with any organization that requires them. I didn't leave the Alliance on the best of terms."

Jack cocked her finger at him, like a gun. "Hah! Another piece of your mysterious past uncovered."

There was a loud alarm buzz that filled the mess. Joker's voice came over the intercom. "General quarters, folks. We're heading for Horizon, just got word of a possible Collector abduction. We'll be there in six hours." The intercom clicked off.

"Ah crap," said Jack. "Just as it was getting interesting." She got up from the table. "See ya around, Assface."

Donnelly nodded. "Be careful on Horizon, okay?"

Jack snorted. "Shit, dude. I'm not gonna be careful, I'm gonna _rock_."


	5. Sixteen Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six

Jack ducked behind the wall just in time. The corner she had been peeking around was sliced off by a white beam. Overhead, clumps of the Collector Swarmers whirled and spun. She knew they were seeking humans to sting. But so far the frog-dude's countermeasures seemed to be working, and they completely ignored her. Beyond the swarms, the landed Collector ship loomed over the colony of Horizon like a biomechanical mountain.

So far, most of the Collectors had been no problem. They were weird looking and tough, sure, but really they were just big bugs. In the end, they went squish like bugs should. It had been a fun fight up until now. These little sneaky sniper fuckers, though, were a royal pain in her ass.

"Sniper, structure north of courtyard. Top window," she said into her comm.

"Got it," said Zaeed over the radio, "I'll flush him out." She heard the boom of Zaeed's gun, which almost covered the hearty _thwack_ of the round hitting home. Jack scuttled to the other end of the wall and risked a peek. The right half of the window was gone in a huge semicircular bite. She caught a glimpse of the Collector's dark shape flitting past the new hole, trying to regain cover. Just as fast, its head disappeared in a welter of gore. There was the _crack_ of a high-powered rifle right after.

"Scratch the sniper," said Garrus's voice.

She had to admit, the bird-man was a cocky sonofabitch but damn if he couldn't back it up. Jack also had to admit that this whole teamwork thing was actually kind of...fun? She certainly got to do a lot more killing with less effort.

"I'm past the courtyard," radioed Shepard, "There's a kind of alley here, between two rows of buildings. A-Team regroup at closer end."

Jack came out of cover at a dead run. She caught a glimpse of Zaeed's yellow armor on her left, contrasting nicely with Garrus's blue on her right. Her focus was ahead, on the door into the building they'd just shot up. Jack moved up, through the door. There was a _crack_ of a weapon and the door jamb just above her head blew apart. She saw the shooter, crouched behind a turned-over table. Lightning-fast, Jack reached out with her power and _pulled_ , yanking the Collector over the table. There was another _boom_ from Zaeed's gun that finished the bug.

"Nice," said the mercenary. "You ever thought of a job after all this? I could use you as backup."

Jack breathed in the smell of heated metal and gunfire, reveling in it. "As long as we get to keep killing lots of things," she said.

"I'm on point," said Zaeed. He moved past her to the far door, took a quick peek around the edge. She felt Garrus move up beside her. She knew it was him without having to look. For once, Jack was actually grateful for the endless training that Shepard had put them through.

"Clear," said the mercenary. "Let's move." The three fighters went through the door, weaving in a complicated ballet that kept the alleyway covered without sweeping their muzzles over each other. Jack felt a feral grin stretching her face. She was one part of a ferocious, well-oiled machine of death. Damn, this was the _shit_.

"Here, John," said Garrus as they took cover next to Shepard. The Spectre nodded, not looking at them. Shepard's bulky armor made Jack feel tired just by looking it. How could he lug all that shit around and still fight so well?

"B-Team, status," said Shepard. His voice was even, almost robotic.

Jacob's voice came over their radios. "We've almost finished our sweep. No Collectors here, we think they're pulling back towards the ship. Lots of empty pods, some frozen colonists."

The frozen people. That had been the only thing in the colony that had really creeped out Jack. There had been lots of them when they landed. People bent over, in postures indicating flight and panic. All of them surrounded by some sort of orange glow and lots of Swarmers. Jack had caught the eyes of one of the frozen, and had seen those panicked eyes track her as she ran by. She didn't want to think about it. Her past had involved lots of restraining. And every time, being held down had been a prelude to searing pain. To be stuck in place like that seemed worse than death to her.

Shepard's voice snapped her back to the present. "B-Team, there should be another alley at right-angles to ours. Push through it and regroup with us at the junction. There's a main comm antenna past there, we can reconnect with the _Normandy_."

"Roger, B-Team out," said Jacob. Distantly, Jack could hear the crack of shotguns and a bellow from Grunt.

There was a buzz from the far end of their alley, and six more Collector soldiers flew in and began to land. Jack was just about to pop out and give them a throw or two, but there was a large armored blur to her right as Shepard came out of cover-

 _crackcrackcrackcrackcrackcrack_

-and all six bugs were down before they could fully land. Jack couldn't believe it. Six precision shots in less than a second? Nobody was that fast, not even the fabled N7's. Just what the hell _was_ Shepard?

"A-Team, move out," said Shepard. He sounded like he was going to pick up his laundry.

They ducked and weaved through the alley without encountering any more resistance. At the far end was a small clearing. Grunt, Jacob, and the cheerleader bitch were there already. Miranda didn't even look like her hair had been mussed. Jacob was breathing more heavily and reloading his shotgun. And Grunt...

Grunt was toting his new pride and joy, the enormous prototype shotgun that Jacob had made for him. It was not pretty; it looked like a long metal brick with a handle welded to it. Jacob kept insisting on calling it a Claymore. However, after the armorer's pained cry of _OuchMotherFuckingGoddamit_ during its first test firing, the rest of the crew had taken to calling it the OMFG. Grunt loved the gun. He carried it everywhere, and Jack suspected that he slept curled up with it at night like it was a security blanket. The krogan had also, somewhere along the line, acquired a huge knife that he carried in a scabbard on one boot. Jack wasn't quite sure how useful it would be against the bugs, but she sure as shit wasn't about to tell the krogan that.

Miranda gestured to a nearby low-set building. It looked like some kind of garage. "The main colony antenna should be through there," she said. Jack decided not to sneer at Miranda. If she started now, she wouldn't be able to stop. And there were things to kill. Hell, mabye one of the Collectors would kill Miranda. Now _there_ was a pleasant thought.

"Locked," said Shepard from the garage door. "Garrus, if you would?"

The turian moved up and fiddled with the door control. He was humming a little ditty as he worked, and Jack had to admit it was a catchy tune. The door opened with a whine of servos, and Garrus gestured grandly in a _there you go, good sir_ gesture.

As they moved into the dimly lit garage, Jack nearly squished a colonist who was hiding in a corner. Shepard and Miranda pulled the frightened man aside to grill him. In the meantime, the rest of the ground team checked out the garage for any other surprises. She found herself near Garrus during the check.

"Hey, what was that song you were humming?" she asked in a low voice.

"Hmm? Oh, that's 'Die For The Cause'. It's the turian imperial anthem."

"Nice tune. Can't say I like the name, though."

Shepard's voice got her attention. "So Kaiden Alenko _is_ here?" he exclaimed. It was the first emotion that Jack had heard out of Shepard since they'd landed.

The colonist nodded. "Yeah, he came just after they installed that laser defense grid. He was futzing around and trying to get it to work. There was some sort of targeting software issue."

"We can have EDI fix that," said Miranda. "Or just have her run the targeting herself, if we patch her into the grid. Those GUARDIAN lasers should have enough penetration to damage the Collector ship. It's just sitting there, we should be able to really hurt it."

"Was Alenko alive, the last you saw him?" Shepard asked the colonist.

The man rubbed the back of his head. "I guess so? It was really crazy after those little bugs started swarming everywhere."

Shepard nodded. "Okay, we're heading towards the main comm antenna, you lock up after us and stay quiet. Keep your comm open, you'll hear it when we get the Collectors booted out of here." Jack noticed that he said 'when' and not 'if'.

They moved out past the garage. After going through a few more buildings, they entered a large plaza with a tall, graceful-looking antenna complex in the middle. Jack scanned the plaza as they came in with weapons ready. There were a few crates, but nothing she would call real cover. That was going to make things interesting. She was glad she'd been practicing her protective barrier control.

Shepard and Garrus moved towards the antenna, and the rest of them took positions to provide protective fire if needed. So far, it looked deserted. Jack noticed that there hadn't been any of the frozen colonists around for a while. She figured that those people must have been loaded onto the ship already.

Maybe the Collectors were just going to leave? A harsh buzzing noise proved her wrong. Thirty Collectors came swarming over the outer edges of the plaza, clearly trying to surround the team. As they appeared, the crack of weapons sounded. Jack saw at least six go down immediately. She glanced over at Shepard and Garrus. The turian was frantically trying to work the antenna console while Shepard stood back-to-back with him, rifle at the ready. He took occasional shots at any Collectors that came into his field of fire.

Jack had her own shotgun out, and was alternating biotic pulls with firing. She was dimly aware that Miranda was next to her, shooting around the other side of the crate Jack was using for concealment. Jack had a vague notion that she could just turn her shotgun around and give the cheerleader a round right in the back of her head. But no, that would be a pussy move. If she did take Miranda down, it would be face-to-face. Just so she could see the panic in Miranda's eyes.

The wave of Collectors was quickly whittled down to ten. Jack thought that this wasn't too bad. She wondered if this was all that the Collectors could throw at them. It really was a bit of a letdown, now that she thought about it...

"I AM ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL."

It was a huge voice, reverberating, clotted with age. One of the Collector soldiers suddenly jerked upright, and there was a huge flash. The insectoid figure was now wreathed in flame, its eyes glowed and its body seemed to float ever so slightly off of the ground.

"SHEPARD." it called, and the transformed Collector began throwing bolts of plasma at the large antenna's base. Jack saw Shepard push Garrus down, covering the turian with his own armored body. The plasma bolts fizzed on the Commander's shields. Shepard snapped off a few shots, but the bullets didn't seem to do much to the flaming Collector.

Jack didn't know what the hell this new fucker was, but she figured it should be put down without delay. She felt her shotgun buck in her hand as she got off a round. It was a sweet shot, right in the thing's shoulder. But it didn't really seem to care. The flaming head snapped around towards her, and she was suddenly struck by the presence behind those glowing eyes.

She called them bugs? No, _she_ was the bug. She was a little beetle pinned to a card, under the regard of something utterly ancient, utterly remorseless-

The plasma bolt from the thing struck her crate and blew it into kindling. Both Jack and Miranda were sent sprawling. Jack didn't waste time getting up, instead she frantically crab-walked on knees and elbows towards a pillar near the edge of the plaza. She felt the heat as another plasma bolt plowed into the ground just behind her feet.

"THIS HURTS YOU."

Whatever it was, it sure liked to talk. She got behind the pillar and scrambled to her feet.

"WE ARE THE HARBINGER OF YOUR PERFECTION."

"Keep talking, assmunch," she muttered. "Don't care about bullets? Try this on for size."

She threw one arm in an underhand pitching motion, aiming around the pillar at the flaming Collector. The biotic shockwave flew across the ground, scattering debris in its wake. It smacked into the thing, and she felt a swell of gratification as she saw it reel from her attack.

"Yeah, that hurts _you_ don't it?" Jack yelled. She glanced around. The team had recovered from the initial shock, and now the 'Harbinger' was getting it good from all sides. Miranda had gotten to one of the other only crates left in the plaza, and was snapping shots around it at Harbinger. The flaming figure raised one hand in an obvious attempt to destroy Miranda.

Fuck that. If the cheerleader was going to die, it would be by Jack's hand. She reached again with her power and _pulled_ the thing's raised arm. The plasma bolt went wild. Harbinger's head looked in her direction, just in time to get a nice shot into its side from Garrus. The thing shifted focus again, sending a fusillade of bolts towards the antenna's base.

"IF I MUST TEAR YOU APART, SHEPARD, I WILL,"

The flaming thing was hurt, though. The protection that had allowed it to shrug off weapons fire was spent. Harbinger began to be whittled away by concentrated shots, and finally blew apart in a welter of flaming embers with a booming shot from Grunt's OMFG.

"DESTROY ONE, AND ONE HUNDRED SHALL TAKE ITS PLACE," said the voice as the embers dispersed. Jack finally took in a deep breath. The plaza was now completely wrecked, with scorch marks and bullet holes everywhere. The crates were just so much firewood; there was nowhere left to hide.

"Okay, people, the GUARDIAN system is online," said Shepard over the comm. "We have to hold here to keep EDI in contact." There was the far-off grumble of large servomotors, and Jack saw several distant laser turrets swing around to point at the looming mass of the Collector ship. After a brief pause, there was the thundering sounds of the laser batteries discharging. She saw gouts of flame spew from the rocky sides of the Collector ship. Right, this was going good, it was going to be cake from here on out-

There was a horrible, ululating moan that filled the plaza. Black scuttling shapes began swarming through every door. She'd sat through the lectures by Shepard and Mordin and she knew that these were husks. Knowing didn't help, however. She turned to the nearest entrance, just in time to see five of them heading for her. They had a lumbering, hunched-over posture which belied their speed. Jack sent them sprawling with another biotic shockwave, then used her shotgun to finish them off. Her savage grin was now gone; this shit was starting to get serious.

She looked around the edge of the pillar into the plaza center. Jack began sending shockwaves out in radial patterns, trying to break up the formations of swarming black figures. It seemed to work well. The tumbling husks were rapidly put down by concentrated firing from the rest of the team. She felt the very distant beginnings of panic. There sure were a shitload of them-

There was another, deeper moan. Something new came tottering through one of the doors, a horribly tall figure that looked like two or three husks fused together into a bulbous mass. It gestured with one lanky, impossibly long arm and a biotic shockwave rippled towards Jack's pillar. She felt the blow even through cover, and went down hard on her back. The leering, white-lined face of a husk appeared above her. Jack screamed and punched hard with one blue-clad fist, hard enough to smash right through the thing's face. She tried to get up, but saw more of them swarming in-

A shot took off the head of one of her attackers. Miranda waded into the fray, firing continuously and never missing a single shot. She sent a biotic throw at the husk nearest to Jack and sent it tumbling. Jack got her feet under her, went down on all fours like a linebacker, and charged the mass of husks. She rolled through like a blue-clad berzerker and scattered them. Between her and Miranda, the next few seconds was a succession of rapid-fire shots that killed them all.

"You okay, Jack?" panted Miranda.

"Fuck...you...cheerleader," Jack panted back. Miranda gave her an ironic smirk. They regained cover and looked out.

The tall, bulbous thing that had knocked her around was throwing shockwaves at the other team members. There was another huge boom from the OMFG, and the top of the thing simply vaporized. Jack heard Grunt's satisfied roar. It went better after that. They were able to blunt the husk rushing attacks and kill off their enemies individually. Jack risked a quick look towards the looming bulk of the Collector ship, and saw that huge holes had been blasted into its rocky surface. She heard a different, lower rumble that shook the ground.

"They're pulling out," yelled Shepard over the comm. She saw the last of the huge, malformed husks go down with a shot from Garrus.

Jack began to get her breath back. "Fuck," she muttered to herself. "Fuck those guys."

They began to regroup near the antenna. "Okay, people," said Shepard, "sound off. Any wounded?" The Commander walked up to Jack and Miranda, looked them over, and moved off. "Grunt," he continued, "what the hell? What happened to your arm?"

"It is a minor wound, Shepard."

"I can see to the _bone_ , Grunt. You have to tell us when you're hurt."

Jack checked her shotgun, making sure it hadn't gotten too banged up from all this craziness. She saw the towering mass of the Collector ship begin to move up and away from Horizon. She wished them good fucking riddance, and promised herself to kick even more kinds of hell out of them next time.

But then she saw a little black speck spurt out of one of the departing ship's ports. The speck grew rapidly larger. It resolved into a huge, beetle-like shape that began to swoop down in an obvious attack at the plaza. The thing had a giant, gaping mouth that opened wide as it came in. Instead of teeth, the mouth was filled with husk heads, all of which seemed to be looking right at her. The nightmarish shape blazed with a blue, shifting aura.

She heard a loud 'clack' behind her, as Grunt cocked the OMFG.

"Finally!" roared the krogan, "Something BIG!"

Time seemed to slow. "Take cover!" yelled Shepard. Jack dashed back for the pillar, and just had time to think to herself _Really, Boss? We couldn't figure that out ourselves?_ She regained the relative safety of the pillar just in time to feel the ground shake from the huge beetle-thing's impact. She didn't really take time to aim, and just flung a desperate shockwave around the pillar. The beetle-thing's aura seemed to soak it up like a sponge, along with the weapons fire that the team was pouring into it. Grunt bellowed again, and actually _ran_ at the huge scarab shape. He slammed into it with one broad shoulder. The impact seemed to jolt it slightly, but it recovered with astonishing speed and flung out one knife-edged limb that batted the krogan aside like a toy. Grunt flew ten feet before smacking into a wall. The OMFG went spinning away.

The beetle-thing's blue aura seemed to fade away as it scuttled around to face Grunt. The krogan was pushing himself up with just one hand; his wounded arm seemed to be out of commission. The huge scarab shape flared out both of its front slashing limbs and threw itself at the krogan. Jack saw shots smack into the sides of the thing, but it didn't seem to even notice. It was going to spear Grunt...

She didn't have time to think about what to do, she just did it. Jack threw a biotic pull at the thing's front legs. It felt like she had grabbed hold of a runaway dreadnought. The shock sent her to her knees, but it also tumbled the beetle-thing ass over teakettle. Grunt managed to roll out of the thing's way just as it smacked into the wall where he'd been standing.

The thing rolled back onto its legs. Now it was looking right at her, and Jack just had time to throw herself back as two wickedly-sharp limbs stabbed into the ground in front of her. She threw another shockwave, which knocked it back a bit but not enough. It pulled its stabbing limbs out of the ground and reared in front of her, clearly getting ready to strike again. Jack had time to realize that she just might die here...

There was a huge, white-and-blue armored blur that smacked down into the middle of the beetle-thing's back. It collapsed into the ground, its legs splaying out in all directions. Grunt snarled as he knelt atop the thing's carapace. He pounded his good fist like a trip-hammer into the thing's shell. Jack heard a loud crack as its exoskeleton broke, and the beetle-thing gave out a piercing, whistle-like wail. Grunt grabbed at his boot, and Jack saw him yank out the huge knife and drive it into the opening he'd just made.

The thing screamed and reared again, pitching Grunt off of its back. Jack slapped her hands together in a crushing motion, and a dark blue sphere appeared above the beetle-thing. It began levitating into the sphere, and its many limbs flailed as it lost purchase on the ground. There was a multitude of wet crunching noises as the thing began to contact the edge of the sphere. It gave one last shriek, convulsed, and then fell silent.

Jack suddenly realized she was looking at the ground from very close up. Her cheek was pressed into the turf. She tried to pick her head up, but it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. "Dammit," she slurred into the grass. "I overdid it."

Multiple hands grabbed her and helped get her into a seated position. Shepard was in front of her, his face drawn and worried. "Jack? Stay with me, Jack."

She flailed one very heavy hand at his chest in a pushing motion. "I'm fine, Boss. Just gimme a bit to catch my breath."

"That was a singularity," said Garrus with something like awe in his voice. "I thought only asari could manifest those."

Jack made a faint scoffing noise. "Hah," she mumbled, almost to herself. "Them blue babes ain't shit. I told Assface I was gonna rock."

And then the colonist they'd found earlier came running into the plaza, screaming that they hadn't done enough. If Jack wasn't so tired, she would have gone ahead and squished him. Garrus tried to reason with the man, but he was inconsolable. And then the turian mentioned Shepard's name, which stopped the colonist's tirade dead.

Unfortunately, that was also when somebody else appeared. Someone who needed squishing even more.

* * *

Donnelly was in the conference room with the rest of the senior staff, going through the Horizon mission debrief. The report was filled with images of frozen humans, of swirling masses of paralyzing bugs, of huge nightmare insect shapes. Shepard didn't give the presentation; he had stomped back aboard and then promptly locked himself in his cabin. Miranda was giving the debrief in his place. She flicked through the images, describing in dry tones the horrors they had found. She stopped on a video of a paralyzed colonist. Donnelly swallowed as he looked at the frozen man, whose eyes darted about in panic.

"I know there may be some doubts about our organization," said Miranda. Her gaze flickered across Donnelly, who stared back impassively. "But this is not some kind of theoretical threat. This is real. People are undergoing terror that we cannot imagine. And there is no one coming to help. There is just us. We're all that stands in the way of this."

"Ms. Lawson," said Dr. Chakwas, "I am solidly behind Shepard and you on this, you know that. But we are just one ship. Surely we now have enough evidence to get the Council or at least the Alliance involved?"

Miranda shook her head. "I would say yes, but politics is unfortunately in play here. These abductions are taking place only in the Terminus systems, which rules out any direct Council involvement. Any help from them would certainly result in military escalation. They have given Shepard leave to operate in the Terminus systems, but that is as far as they're willing to go. And as for any help from the Alliance...well, I will let the Alliance speak for itself."

She tapped a few controls, and the vid of the paralyzed human was replaced with helmet-cam footage. From the high vantage point of the vid, Donnelly figured it had to be from Garrus' visor. He heard a low growl next to him. He glanced over at Garrus. Turian faces were normally hard to read, but now the sniper looked like he was carved from granite. He could see, however, that the turian's eyes were furious. Donnelly shifted his attention back to the video.

Shepard stood wearily, his armor scored and blasted, arguing with a smaller dark-haired man who wore Alliance-blue armor. "This is more important than me, Kaiden!" he yelled. "You've seen everything that's happened here, all of it. And you think that I'm somehow the threat?"

The smaller man shook his head, his arms crossed. "These attacks are bad, but there's nothing to indicate an existential threat like you say. We've dealt with Batarians and slave-takers before."

Shepard dropped his arms. There was nothing but shock on his face. "Slavers just do smash-and-grab, you idiot! These bastards take entire colonies and don't leave a trace! Hell, it was pure dumb luck in the first place that we found out it was the Collectors. And there's HUSKS here, damn it! Remember them? That means Reapers! You were there at the Battle of the Citadel, you SAW goddamn Sovereign-"

Donnelly flinched slightly.

"-and what it took to destroy ONE Reaper. What are we going to do when a hundred of them come rocking up, huh? Or maybe a thousand? A million?"

Kaiden dropped his gaze. "It's all circumstantial, the husks could have been given to them by the geth-"

"I don't believe this," snapped Shepard. "The Council was always a pain in the ass, so I expected them to give me the brush-off. But you? How far back do we go? You just shook my hand, you've looked me in the eye. This is _me_ , Kaiden. Can you please just trust me?"

Kaiden looked back up. "It sounds like you, and it looks like you. But you've been in Cerberus hands for two years. I don't know what they've done to you. What if they're controlling you? Would you even know?"

"DAMN it, Kaiden-" yelled Garrus from offscreen.

Miranda touched a control, and the video froze. "There were some...heated exchanges after that, of a personal nature," she said. Her smooth, alabaster brow furrowed slightly. "Out of respect for Shepard, I think it's best if I don't play it."

She looked up, meeting their eyes in turn. "Kaiden Alenko is...was one of Shepard's closest friends. They served in many of the same units for five years before they joined the original _Normandy_. If anyone in the Alliance was going to support us, it would be him." She looked down again. "So no, I don't think the Alliance will be helping us either."


	6. Big In Japan

It was quite remarkable, thought Zaeed, how much of a mercenary's life consisted of waiting around. It seemed you were always waiting for the payment to clear, or waiting for your team to gather, or waiting for the right moment to attack. He stretched a little in his chair and looked around the comfortable reception area. He'd waited in stinking mud-pits on worlds that were barely out of the Stone Age. If he _had_ to cool his heels, this was much more like it. He'd already turned down about fifteen offers of tea or coffee or something called delrach juice. The pretty little asari receptionist - Nyrath? no, Nyxeris - had finally figured out that he was quite content to be left alone. The windows on one side of the room looked out over an impressive vista of the city of Nos Astra.

Zaeed rose and went to the window. There were multiple skyscrapers surrounding this building, and at least three were much higher than their neighbors. He could just barely make out their tops when he craned his neck to look up. It was mid-afternoon, and the sunlight cast everything in an alternating pattern of shadows and golden glow. Aircars twinkled and swarmed in cross-hatch patterns around the skyscrapers. Zaeed looked down a bit. They were very high up. He wondered, idly, how much this office cost to rent.

Shepard and Garrus were in the inner office with their contact, an asari named Liara. She'd apparently worked with them during the takedown of Saren. He'd caught the look on Liara's face when she'd first seen Shepard. She had been very polite and formal, but Zaeed knew a look of love when he saw it. And so he'd begged off staying in the meeting, figuring the three of them would feel more free to talk about old times without some scarred stranger looming over them. Shepard was his boss for now, and Zaeed knew the importance of keeping the boss happy.

He heard the door open behind him, and turned to see his two comrades emerge. Garrus stalked out with a polite nod to Nyxeris, while Shepard hung back and murmured something to Liara. Zaeed saw the asari place her hand on the Commander's forearm in a comradely gesture. However, her face was oddly distant. She nodded at whatever Shepard had said, and dropped her arm. Zaeed gave both of the asari a little bow, and then trailed after Shepard out the door.

Garrus was already waiting by the elevator, his face a little more stony and unreadable than usual. He had his arms crossed and tapped one foot, and seemed to be lost in reminiscence.

Shepard spoke to the turian as they came up. "What the hell, Garrus?" he said. "What happened to her?"

"It's been two years, John."

"That's not _that_ long," said the Spectre. He rubbed the back of his neck, something that Zaeed knew indicated more-than-usual stress in the Commander. "When we walked in, she was threatening to skin somebody with her mind!"

"You ever done work on Illium, Shepard?" asked Zaeed. "Getting paid what you're owed can get a little heated around here. There was this one time, I had to rig an explosive charge to a client's desk to get 'em to pay up." He smiled at the memory. "Heh. I didn't know asari could actually _go_ pale."

"If you say so," said Shepard. The elevator arrived, and they piled in. "For a moment there, it was like Benezia had been reincarnated."

The elevator was one of those glass affairs mounted on the side of the building. Zaeed kept a careful eye on the view. He hated being this exposed; a halfway-decent sniper could pick any one of them off without warning. Zaeed hoped that the elevator's glass was armored as a precaution. Liara had struck him as the cautious type.

"It's never coming back, is it?" said Shepard. He sounded tired, which surprised Zaeed. He'd never seen the Commander lack for energy. "I kept thinking that we could get all the old gang back together." He looked at Garrus. "You, me, Tali, everybody. But Tali's off doing whatever her mission is. Kaiden thinks I'm a traitor. Wrex has turned into a politician, of all things. And Liara's changed into somebody a lot colder."

Garrus shrugged. "I always suspected that our asari comrade was a lot less naive than she let on."

Shepard gave him a questioning look.

"Well, think about it," continued Garrus. "She'd never been around humans, and suddenly she's on a ship full of them. All of them regarding her with suspicion because of her mother. So yes, I could see her playing up the 'innocent, un-worldy teenager' angle to gain sympathy."

Shepard looked away, his face dark.

Garrus touched his shoulder. "Hey, it wasn't an act. Just an exaggeration. She does care for us. Especially for you."

Shepard gave a dry chuckle. "Oh, don't I know it."

The elevator doors opened and the three walked out into a huge glass-covered atrium. This was one of the main trading floors for Nos Astra. It was filled with sunlight, huge computer screens, and the bustle of people desperately trying to make staggering sums of money. Zaeed did a quick scan for any threats. Nothing obvious so far. They moved through the space, towards the exit the street.

"Let's get Jacob and head back," said Shepard. "We've got two ops to plan for. First, we have to make contact with a drell assassin who is apparently doing a hit on an old acquaintance of ours."

"Who's the target?" said Garrus. Zaeed noted that the turian was also scanning the trading floor. Shepard was staring at the ground as they walked, still mulling over the meeting with Liara.

"Remember Nassana Dantius?" asked Shepard.

"Oh, spirits. What has that idiot got herself into now?" Garrus shook his head.

Shepard grinned. "Everything bad, apparently. And she's making enemies like crazy, including one who had enough money to hire Mr. Krios."

"Thane's here?" asked Zaeed.

Shepard looked over at the mercenary. "I was going to ask how the hell you know him, but you seem to know everybody."

Zaeed shrugged. "We don't run in exactly the same circles, but we've crossed paths once or twice. I don't know much about him. Thane sure doesn't talk a lot."

They moved out into the street, which was not quite as crowded as the trading floor. There was low, constant hum from the aircars overhead.

"After that," said Shepard, "we have to go find a Justicar and see if she's up for a suicide mission. That will be interesting."

Zaeed scratched an ear. "Justicar...they're some kinda asari knight or something, aren't they?"

Shepard nodded. "Sort of. They travel around righting wrongs, protecting the innocent, and all that. Apparently their training is hellish and they are very tough. Our candidate has been a justicar for four hundred years or so. That's definitely somebody you wouldn't want after you."

"I didn't think they ever left asari space," said Garrus.

"Well, this one has" replied Shepard. "And she apparently has a thing for lost causes."

"Then she should fit right in, eh, Shepard?" said Zaeed with a raspy chuckle. And then he caught the tail. There were two of them, an asari and a human male. He had seen them on the trade floor, apparently engrossed in price fluctuations. And now they trailed behind the trio, apparently engrossed in each other.

Zaeed looked back ahead and dropped his voice. He kept his tone casual. "Gotta possible tail. Two people. Asari in a red dress and a guy in a blue suit."

Shepard nodded. "They were on the trading floor looking at the stock prices for Elkoss, weren't they?"

"Yeah," said Zaeed. Well, that was another lesson learned. Shepard was _always_ paying attention, even when it didn't seem so.

"How do you want to handle it?" asked Garrus.

The Commander cocked his head. "My guess is they're not really after us," he said. "Liara mentioned she had quite a few enemies around on Illium. They're probably just getting info on who's meeting with her."

"So we ignore them?" That didn't seem like a good idea to Zaeed. He didn't like being tailed on general principle.

"Nope. We owe Liara a solid for her help." Shepard thought a bit more. "Okay, when we meet Jacob at the weapons dealer we should split up. Zaeed, you go in and talk to Jacob. Garrus and I will head for the _Normandy_. Keep in touch, and we'll see if they follow us or you. I don't think our tail is likely to split up. Whoever they don't follow will make the intercept."

"Do we want intel, or to send a message?" Zaeed asked.

"Send a message," said Shepard. He gave a mirthless smile. "I don't think it would hurt to let everybody know that Liara has some really nasty friends."

Zaeed matched Shepard's smile. He was finally glad he'd tagged along.

They walked by the weapons shop, a plain storefront with a really gaudy sign that promised easy death for one's enemies. Zaeed peeled off and headed inside while Shepard and Garrus crossed the street. The number of pedestrians was significantly lower, and he could tell their tail was having a harder time keeping a low profile.

Zaeed walked up to Jacob, who was perusing a really nice-looking assult rifle. It couldn't hold a candle to his beloved Jessie, but it was still a nice gun. The younger man nodded as he walked up. "Jacob," he said in reply, then leaned over the case as if looking at the rifle as well.

"Got a tail," he murmured to Jacob. "Asari in red, guy in blue. Going to see if they follow us or Shepard, and bag 'em." Jacob didn't look around and instead flicked his eyes up to a larger, reflective display above the case.

"Got 'em," said Jacob. Zaeed felt a little swell of pride. The kid was finally learning how to be subtle. He followed Jacob's example, and in the reflection saw their quarry walk right by the shop.

"Shepard," said Zaeed over his comm, "looks like they're sticking with you."

"Got it," said Shepard's voice. "There's a couple of alleys between us and the ship. We'll use them. It should give you a good opportunity."

"How do you want to handle this?" Jacob asked Zaeed.

"You leave first and follow 'em," replied the mercenary. "I'll follow you. I'd better keep well back, since I'm more noticeable. Guess it's my fault for being so pretty."

Jacob nodded. "If I see a good spot to take them down, I'll let you know. How hard are we hitting them?"

"Nothin' that would put 'em in the hospital. We just wanna scare 'em"

It almost went smoothly. Jacob was turning into a halfway decent tracker in Zaeed's opinion, and the younger man had no trouble keeping up with Shepard's tail. The first alley was too open to the street, and Jacob wisely didn't try anything there. It was a different story for the second alley. Zaeed saw Jacob turn the corner into the second alley. "This one's got a little dogleg section," said Jacob over comm. "Making the intercept."

The mercenary began sprinting as soon as he heard Jacob's call. He reached the corner to the alley, and snuck a look around the corner. He was just in time to see Jacob's back disappear around the 'dogleg'. Zaeed pelted down the alley and again peeked into the next section.

The human in the suit was crumpled and unmoving against one wall, but the asari was still up. She'd apparently pulled a weapon, and Jacob was wrestling with her gun-hand. The armorer was a lot stronger than the asari, and he was winning the contest. But then the asari gestured with her other hand and Jacob flew into the opposite wall in a pulse of blue light. Zaeed could hear the grunt as the air was forced from Jacob's lungs.

Zaeed had already crossed half the distance to the asari by the time Jacob hit. He was moving more quietly, but must have made some sound. The asari spun around, just in time to see Zaeed's pistol pointed at her face.

"Evening, darlin'," he said. "Why don't you drop the gun and put your hands on your head? That way I won't have to ruin such a pretty face." He could see the alien thinking about trying a move, but then Jacob pushed himself up off the wall. The younger man looked a little rattled, but otherwise unharmed.

"Two on one, darlin'," said Zaeed. "I wouldn't take those odds." After a little pause, the asari slowly placed her gun on the ground and placed her hands on her head. "That's better."

Jacob moved up to Zaeed's side. He picked up the asari's gun, and trained it on her as well. "You're really fast, lady. That was a good throw," he said. The asari didn't respond. She didn't even seem to react, actually. She just looked at them both with no expression.

"She's probably ex-commando, I'm guessing," said Zaeed. "Right, darlin'?" The asari still said nothing. "Hey, kid," continued Zaeed, "You want a free punch at 'er, as payback for gettin' tossed?"

Jacob shook his head. Zaeed smiled at the asari. "Well, it's your lucky day, darlin'. He's a nice guy." His gun whipped forward, smacking the asari alongside her head. The alien fell to her knees, but still didn't make a sound. She glared up at Zaeed. There was a nasty-looking cut just under her crest. Purple blood began to trickle down from it.

"Now me," growled Zaeed. "I can be a _right_ bastard." He smiled in a way that he knew made his scarred face even more unsettling.

"I'm not telling you anything," said the asari.

Zaeed shrugged. "Fair enough. We don't want to know anything. We just want you to spread the word around. We don't care if you play your little spy games. But we do care about Liara herself. If one little tentacle on her head gets harmed, we will hear about it."

The mercenary leaned over and shoved his face right into hers. He glared at her with his pale, prosthetic eye. "I wouldn't want to be you, in that case. 'Coz Liara has got a lot of friends. And not all of 'em are forgiving and gentle like I am."

* * *

Donnelly wanted to meditate, but thinking back on his talk with Kelly in the hangar he thought he should at least go somewhere outside his quarters. The starboard lounge seemed like a good bet, and sure enough it was deserted. He figured the off-duty crew were all over at the port-side lounge, drinking at Kasumi's improvised bar.  
He sat in lotus, and began to breathe more slowly. Beyond the window was the flickering blue pattern of FTL flight. It was a nice bit of visual white noise, and he rapidly dropped into a meditative state. He had a brief notion that he should have come here a long time ago, and then let the thought go. After a long while, he stirred and lifted his head up.

"Thank you," said a gentle voice at his side.

"GAH! Oh, sorry ma'am. I didn't hear you come in."

The asari sat in lotus beside him. She was dressed in what looked like red leather armor, and had a brass choker covering her long neck. Her blue forehead was adorned with..some sort of red tiara? He couldn't quite recognize it.

Her eyes were filled with pure blue-white light. Her hands were held out in front of her, palms up. In the air before her hovered a pulsating orb of a color that matched the glow in her eyes. Donnelly was speechless. He thought Jack's swirling aura had been an impressive demonstration of biotic power, but he had never even _heard_ of anything like this.

He almost said something else, but hesitated. The asari stirred, and the orb vanished. The glow in her eyes faded, and she turned her head to smile at him. The force of her look seemed to pin him to the floor. Her eyes were a very pale blue and ageless. They were kind, but had steel just below their surface.

"I should apologize, not you," she said. "I intruded on your meditation. I'm afraid I was a little greedy. I have been meditating on my own for too long, and I could not pass up the opportunity for companionship."

"Er, it's no bother, ma'am."

"Please, call me Samara." She offered a hand, and he shook it.

"Of course. I'm Marcus."

"Shall we continue?"

Donnelly had been planning to hunt down Zaeed for a drink, but that could wait. "Why not?"

* * *

Garrus leaned against a bulkhead on the hanger deck and watched with half an eye as Zaeed and Jacob sparred. The two men were shirtless and using pugil sticks as a new wrinkle in their usual training. Jacob was clearly stronger, but Zaeed was just as clearly the more experienced. The mercenary's torso was speckled with old scars, in stark contrast to Jacob's pristine and sculpted body.

Jacob had just scored a nice little hit on Zaeed's side when Garrus turned to Samara. Their new recruit was also leaning against the bulkhead, watching the match with apparent interest. He still wasn't sure what to make of the asari. She hadn't really spent much time yet interacting with the rest of the crew or the ground team.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he said. The red-clad asari gave him a little smile, and nodded.

"I have to confess," continued Garrus, "I'm not familiar with the Justicar Code. How flexible is it?"

Samara blinked, and tilted her head. "The code is absolute, and must be followed. It has over five thousand different sutras which cover every possible situation."

Garrus rubbed one talon on his chin. "Perhaps I misspoke. Let's say one encounters a criminal, but one who has perhaps a good reason for committing their crime. Stealing food when starving, for example. What does the code say to do then?"

"Ah," said Samara, "you are speaking of _mercy_." Samara pondered a bit. "The stereotype of the justicars is that they are inflexible and merciless. The first is true, the second is an exaggeration. The code contains many instances where mercy may be shown."

"I see." Garrus gave her a wink. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on testing your mercy. I was just curious."

Samara replied with a larger smile. "Of course. There is much misinformation out there regarding my Order. For example, I once saw a visual representation of the Justicar armor. The artist had gotten most of it correct, except that here," Samara indicated her upper chest, "instead of protecting as it does, they had the armor opened like this." Samara then trailed two hands down from her neck, indicating a plunging neckline that reached well below her breasts.

Garrus chuckled. "Well, it certainly could act as a distraction, I suppose."

"And they had high heels on it too, for some reason."

The pugil-stick session was over. Shepard stepped into the center of the mat. "Okay, Jack, front and center."

The biotic snorted, and walked out with her hands on her hips. "Fine, Boss, what's it to be? Whacking each other with padded sticks?"

Shepard gave her a smile. "You did well on Horizon. I was pleased with how you fit into the team. But I did notice you had a problem with the husks."

Jack glared up at him. "I did not. I was throwing those bastards around pretty good, as I recall."

The Commander just looked at her. "You handled them physically, but how did you do mentally?"

Jack rolled her eyes. "What difference does it make? They got squished. Squished is squished."

"You were frightened," said Shepard. He leaned forward, almost looming over her as he stared at her. She finally had to drop her gaze.

"Okay, fine. I found them creepy. So what," she muttered.

"Fear can lead to panic. Now, on Horizon you kept your head. But what about the next time? Training is all about getting you used to things that make you uncomfortable, so that next time you won't even have to think about it."

Jack raised her head again. "Okay, so how do we do this?"

Shepard leaned back. "I know you aren't shy about getting in melee. I'm guessing your problem with the husks was way in which they rushed you. They move fast, they don't have any concern for their own safety, and they just keep coming."

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Good, that's what we'll work on. Pay attention, people, because all of you are going through this drill as well." He turned and took ten paces away from Jack. He turned again and planted one foot behind him. "I'm going to rush you, just like they do. Ready?" he asked Jack.

Jack shook her head. "Not you, Boss."

"Sorry?"

"It isn't a fair test, and you know it. You're a hell of a lot faster than any husk. You'll hit me before I could even blink."

Shepard considered for a bit. "Okay, so what would you suggest?"

Jack pointed at Samara. "Why not the newbie? I'd like to see what she's made of."

The Spectre looked over at the justicar. Samara smiled and nodded her acceptance. Shepard turned back to Jack.

"You realize," he said, "that Samara is over nine hundred years old. Much of that time has been spent in combat. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"

"I'm fine with it if she is. Whaddya say, Blue?"

Samara raised one eyebrow, and walked forward onto the mat.

"Okay, Samara," said Shepard, "I think you get the idea for the drill. A fast, all-out attack with no hesitation."

Ssmara nodded, and stood to face Jack. Shepard trotted off of the mat, over to Garrus.

"John," muttered Garrus, "this is not going to be pretty."

"I know," Shepard muttered back, "but she asked for it."

Garrus regarded the justicar as she bowed slightly to Jack. For once, the 'psychotic biotic' didn't make any sort of smart remark, and just nodded.

"Are you ready, Jack?" asked Samara.

"Yeah." As the word left Jack's mouth, Samara became a blue blur that smacked into her with astonishing speed. Jack was left flat on her back, with Samara standing over her. The young biotic started laughing, which surprised Garrus.

"Okay, Blue. Good one. I really misjudged you." Jack rolled over and got to her feet. She put her hands up and began bouncing, moving lightly around the much taller asari. "But now I got you figured, I think-"

There was another blue blur, this one ending in not quite such a straight-on impact as before. Jack spun away from Samara and fell to one knee. She had apparently split her lip on the last blow, and grinned up at Samara with a bloody, fierce grin.

"That's a really nice one, Blue. You might just be faster than our boss-"

Another blur, but Jack wasn't there this time. She rolled away from the attack and struck out with a kick. Jack's leg was sheathed in a blue biotic aura, and the blow crashed into Samara's side. The justicar tumbled onto her stomach with a _woof_ of expelled air. Garrus saw Jack leap at the asari's defenseless back.

Samara pivoted one hip in an impossibly flexible, fluid movement and sent a kick back behind her. The foot connected solidly with the side of Jack's head with a _smack_ that echoed throughout the shuttle bay. The rebuilt side of Garrus's face twinged in sympathy as Jack slammed into the mat and rolled bonelessly.

"Aw, crap," said Shepard. "Dr. Chakwas is going to be pissed at me. Again."


	7. Jockey Full Of Bourbon

"I don't know what's going on with this sun," said Joker's voice over the intercom. "But it's doing a number on our shields. I've got us in a barbecue roll, but if this keeps up we're going to be actually barbecued."

"I know, Joker," said Donnelly. He stood at the main monitoring station in Engineering, his eyes flickering over the telltales. He was not happy with what they were telling him. The _Normandy_ had been only orbiting Haestrom for an hour, and already the shields looked as if they'd gone through major combat. His two other staff were at their stations, also trying to keep ahead of the situation.

"Drive core power stable," said Rogers. For once, his face didn't look sour. It looked more like it was pinched with fear.

"We still have reserves?" asked Donnelly.

Abramson spoke up. "Our reserve power is still available. No problems there."

Donnelly clicked back on with Joker. "I'm going to boost shield output with our reserves," he said, "but if that doesn't work I'll have to get the power from somewhere else. If I have to take something offline, which would you prefer? Stealth or maneuvering?"

"Hmm, such a great choice. Leave our ass hanging out or not be able to move our ass much? I guess nix the stealth, if it comes to that."

"Got it," said Donnelly. His fingers flashed over the controls. "Okay, it looks more stable for now with the added reserve power. We should still have all non-essential personnel bunker down in the mess."

"But what about me?" asked Joker. "I've gotta drive the ship. You gonna bring me some lead-lined undies?"

"Nah, Joker. I figure if you die we can just put a brick on the accelerator and call it good."

"Aw, I knew you cared. Kisses!" Joker broke contact.

Donnelly called Miranda next. "Conn, this is Engineering."

"Go, Engineering."

"Ma'am, we have a potential situation with the shields. The erosion isn't too bad for now, but I may have to take stealth offline if I need a boost. I would recommend getting all off-duty and non-essential personnel into the mess hall. It's in the center of the ship, surrounded by water tanks. It should make a decent storm shelter."

"Understood, Engineering. I'll issue the alert. You get up there too."

"No can do, ma'am. I need to keep on top of the board down here." He checked the dosimeter clipped to his lapel. "Radiation levels are fine for now down here. We've got a hardsuit stowed here, I'll get it on just in case."

He could feel the Cerberus officer hesitating on the other end. "Understood," she finally said, and signed off. There was an alarm klaxon, and then Miranda's voice echoed overhead. Donnelly could hear it reverberating throughout the deck behind him.

"Attention," said Miranda's voice, "This is a ship-wide alert. All off-duty and non-essential personnel are to report immediately to the mess hall. Check dosimeters and report any non-normal radiation exposure to Doctor Chakwas immediately. Essential personnel must don hardsuits immediately. All stations report in once suited."

The two other Cerberus staff turned to look at him. Donnelly began snapping out orders. "Rogers, get to the mess. Abramson, check the subfloor area. No wait, I'll do that. Both of you get your asses to the mess. Clear and lock down sections as you go, and sign in when you get there."

They sprinted off as Donnelly headed for the steps leading down to subfloor maintenance. "Jack?" he called. "You down there?"

There was no answer.

He turned and jogged to the suit locker tucked away in one corner of Engineering. He pulled out the hardsuit and began donning it. The instinctual movements helped calm him. The last time he'd put on one of these, it had not gone well. He finally twisted the helmet into place, and felt a cool wave over his face as the suit began feeding in air.

"Conn, Engineering."

"Go, Engineering." He could hear the metallic overtones in Miranda's voice, and knew she'd also suited up. He admitted that she at least had the sense to put on a hardsuit in this situation, and not rely on her usual slinky catsuit.

"I'm suited up, ma'am. My staff is on their way up to the mess, Engineering is evacuated. Shields are...okay for now. The ship's rolling is keeping the erosion to a minimum. As long as we get out of here in a an hour or two, we should be fine."

"That depends on the ground team, Engineering."

"Understood. Oh, Joker is still at the helm, someone should check to see if he's okay. At least get him into a suit."

"I'm at the helm now, Engineering. I'll look after Joker. Conn out." That surprised Donnelly. Another thought struck him, and he tapped a few commands to check personnel logs. It looked like Jack was signed into the medbay. He gave a little sigh of relief.

He felt a little trickle of sweat behind one ear. The shields were still eroding. Not as fast as originally, but still faster than he liked. Donnelly didn't want to think about what the ground team was going through. They would have the bulk of Haestrom's atmosphere to protect them, but it would still be bad down there.

The _Normandy_ lurched, stopping its roll. Donnelly cursed. The erosion was no longer evenly distributed, and began eating away at the shields along the ship's belly.

"Engineering, Conn," said Miranda's voice in his helmet.

"Go, Conn."

"A geth ship has maneuvered into a possible intercept course. We are taking evasive maneuvers to avoid detection. You must _not_ disengage the stealth system, not until we can get the ground team out."

"Understood, ma'am. It's getting bad. Our wireless comms aren't reliable right now, and we'll need to keep plugged into hard lines to keep in contact. We also need to get all crew suited up. Once the radiation really hits our systems, we're going to start tripping breakers. That will include life support. I'll keep ahead of the whack-a-mole from down here as best I can, if it comes to that."

"Do what you can, Engineering. Conn out". Donnelly kept checking status reports as, with one ear, he heard Miranda issue the all-suits order. Maybe he could take power from the main guns? No, if he did that they'd be screwed if they were found out by the geth and had to fight.

"Engineering, Chakwas here."

"Go, Doctor."

"Is Jack there? We can't find her up here."

"What? She's signed into the medbay, I see it right here. She's not in the mess?"

"She was in the medbay about an hour ago, but I was looking for her when the alerts sounded. She's nowhere to be found. Did you check her quarters?"

Oh, so now they were _her_ quarters? He ignored the little surge of anger. "Crap. I didn't physically check, no. I yelled down, and we've had an alarm and several announcements. If she was down there, she'd have heard it."

"I'm...not sure if that is the case," said Chakwas. "I'm also missing some sedatives. And Zaeed mentioned he is missing a bottle."

"Ah." Donnelly gripped the edge of the console as he pondered. Go check, or stay at his post? "I guess we don't have enough problems to deal with, eh? I've got to keep an eye on this, but also I need to know if she's there. Wait, I'm an idiot. EDI, are you there?"

"I am always here, Mr. Donnelly."

"Do you have a location for Jack?"

"I...am not entirely certain. I believe Jack Nolastname has become very adept at moving around using the service access tunnels, my sensor systems coverage is not as complete in there. Standby, processing. Yes, I have more data. Partial footage I have of Jack Nolastname indicates she is in the subfloor Engineering space."

Donnelly leaned his head forward, feeling his scalp hit the front of his helmet. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Let me go get her." He cut the contact, straightened and gave the readings another scan. He had...maybe fifteen minutes?

"Conn, Engineering."

"Go, Engineering"

"We suspect Jack may have been missed in the evac. She may still be down here. I need to check her area, will report back ASAP."

"WHAT?"

"No time to explain, ma'am. Engineering out."

He unlatched himself from the console and sprinted for the stairs. Donnelly hadn't worn a hardsuit in a while, and he banged himself against the walls as he made his way down. He reached the bottom and scanned the little room in a panic. The red light cast a bloody glow over everything. Nobody on the bed, nothing in sight. But he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, he was going to be sure. Donnelly grabbed the mattress and heaved it aside, spilling papers and food wrappings everywhere.

Jack had tucked herself behind the mattress. She was curled in a foetal position on the floor, facing away from him. She was pressed into the wall as if trying to hide. He leaned down and shook her shoulder.

"Jack? C'mon, wake up. We need to get out of here."

She shifted, and mumbled. She had something clutched tight to her belly. Donnelly couldn't see what it was.

"Okay fine, I'm going to pick you up, okay Jack? We need to get moving."

He squatted over her as he tugged her shoulder. She shifted and rolled. Her head came up and she looked at him, but her eyes were half-closed. The old shiner around her right eye was almost faded away. However, the left side of her face sported a newer, even larger bruise accompanied by several cuts and scratches.

And then suddenly, her eyes snapped open and stared at him with pure hate. He heard her scream, loud even through the suit. Her arm swung out from her stomach, holding an empty glass bottle. Both the bottle and arm blazed with a blue aura as they connected with the side of Donnelly's helmet.

It felt like he'd been hit with a forklift. He spun across the little space, banging like a sack of laundry against the far wall. He tumbled to the ground. He shook his head and tried to get his feet under him as he heard Jack yelling.

"Not going BACK, motherfucker! You hear me? No more CUTTING, no more TESTS, no more DUELS. None of you assholes are taking me back, you will not TOUCH me, I will fucking END YOU ALL."

"Jack, wait-" he began.

A glowing blue boot smashed into his side, sending him sprawling onto his back. There was a bright flare of pain from his torso. He looked up just as Jack landed on his stomach, straddling him. Her face was contorted in a furious howl. The now-broken bottle swirled with blue light, and was poised inches from his visor. He tried to move, tried to throw her off, but it was like he was encased in concrete. He saw a blue shimmer over his visor. He cried out in panic.

"Jack! It's me! Stop..."

"Gonna gut you like a FISH! Gonna drink your BLOOD! I'm gonna WEAR YOUR SKIN! You and your knives and your fucking NEEDLES..."

"JACK! IT'S ME! IT'S ASSFACE!"

The name seemed to hit her like a slap. She sat for a few seconds, breathing heavily. She leaned forward and peered through the visor at Donnelly's eyes. "Assface? Why are you dressed like a guard? This isn't the hospital, is it? What...oh shit, I don't feel so good."

The jagged bottle slipped from her hand and she tumbled off of him, shivering. The aura faded, and Donnelly could move again. He ignored his protesting side and scrambled to his feet. Jack lay like a beached porpoise, still shivering. For about two seconds, Donnelly thought it would be safer to just leave her there. Then he sighed, reached down, and slung her over his shoulder. He grunted with the pain that it caused. He figured he had at least one rib cracked, maybe two.

The ship's situation did not look good by the time he got back to the main console. They had maybe five minutes until the shielding along their ventral side was gone. He punched a few controls, and an acceleration couch unfolded from the floor. He placed Jack into it as gently as possible, and then latched himself back into the console.

"Conn, Engineering,"

"What the hell is going on, Engineering?"

Donnelly blinked. Had Miranda actually cursed? "I'm back at the console, ma'am. I found Jack in the maintenance area. I think she's under the effects of sedatives and definitely alcohol. She attacked me...I think I've got a couple of busted ribs. She's-" he glanced over, "-she's in a bad way. I'm not sure what's going on, she's shivering. She's delerious. Maybe shock. I need somebody to get down here to collect her. Oh, and I estimate about five minutes to ventral shield failure."

There was a moment of silence. "Understood, Engineering. Will you be okay?"

"I've felt better, ma'am, but this isn't my first time with broken ribs. Just don't expect me to do any dancing."

"Engineering, this is Chakwas. Marcus, did Jack use biotics when she attacked you?"

"Oh hell yes. She damn near took my head off."

"I see," said Chakwas. "I'm guessing she is indeed suffering from an extreme form of shock, induced by too much biotic use without sufficient energy reserves. I told her she wasn't eating enough. Can you cover her, keep her warm, and keep her feet elevated?

"I'll do what I can, Doctor. I'm going to be very busy here in about...three minutes."

"I can give you longer," said Joker. Donnelly felt the ship roll. As he watched, the erosion on the _Normandy's_ belly slowed and then stopped. The shielding on their top now began to fade.

"Joker, that is not an optimal orientation for stealth," said Miranda. "But never mind. Engineering, new time estimate for shield failure?"

"About twenty minutes, ma'am. I'll get Jack as comfortable as I can, but I really need someone in a hardsuit to come collect her-"

Alarms blazed on his screen. "Possible targeting radar," yelled Joker in Donnelly's ear. "Prepare for evasive manuevers!"

Donnelly didn't waste time cursing. He spun, feeling another jab of pain in his side, and began strapping Jack into the acceleration couch. She struggled, weakly trying to pry the straps loose as tears ran down her face. Donnelly tried to reassure her. "It's okay Jack, this helps, I'm here to help, we're going to be bouncing around for a bit, okay?"

"No tests," she murmured.

"No, lassie, no more tests."

He untucked the emergency oxygen mask from under the couch. "I've got to strap this to your face, okay Jack? It's just air, just in case we lose pressure." The _Normandy_ lurched, and he was thrown forward. If he hadn't been anchored to the main console, Donnelly would have face-planted right into Jack's chest. He fumbled her oxygen mask into place, trying to ignore the panic in her eyes. He then turned away and checked his suit. His own air appeared to be unaffected by Jack's assault. That was just about the only thing that had gone right so far.

He touched a few more controls, and two more emergency anchors unfolded from the ceiling and latched onto his suit's shoulders. The ship rolled again, but he was held securely this time.

"Shuttle is en route. ETA five minutes," said EDI.

"Music to my ears, EDI," said Joker. "This is going to be a hot extraction, folks. How we doing, Marcus?"

"Main power feeds stable," said Donnelly. "Ventral shields are rebuilding, dorsal shields now ten minutes to failure. When we do the shuttle snatch, do you need me to cut the ventral shields, or will you do it from there?"

"I'm on it. Just make sure we've got plenty of maneuvering power...crap!" There was a sudden jolt to the side, and another warning flashed on Donnelly's screen. "That was close. The geth are firing mass drivers, it looks like we've been made."

"Hold our trajectory, Joker," said Miranda. "We need to be able to intercept the shuttle."

"Yeah, as long as the geth don't figure our course-"

The _Normandy_ rang like a gong. There was a brief, terrible wind and then Donnelly was surrounded by utter silence. The only sounds were the comms and his breathing.

"We're hulled," he announced. "Loss of pressure in Engineering." He glanced over at Jack's couch, and saw the couch's top covered with the coruscating bubble of its emergency mass effect field. Jack's eyes were huge over the oxygen mask, staring at him. He gave her a thumbs-up and turned back. "Both myself and Jack are okay."

"Engineering, Conn. Ship status report."

"Power at one hundred percent to starboard nacelles," said Donnelly. "Ninety percent to port nacelles and dropping. Stand by, rerouting. Okay, now it's stable. We probably have some cabling out there. We still have FTL capability."

"ETA to shuttle intercept, two minutes"

"Thanks, EDI," said Miranda. "Engineering, notify if power drop resumes."

"Aye, ma'am."

It was a tense two minutes. Joker threw in a couple of zigs to make sure the geth couldn't score another hit, and then there was another, deeper note that rang through the ship. "Successful shuttle capture," EDI announced. "FTL system online."

"Get us _gone_ , Joker," said Miranda.

"Gone we be."

* * *

Donnelly unlatched himself from the console and lumbered over to the door. Every step felt like a red-hot needle jabbing into his flank. The door had a nice hole punched through it. It was probably due to shrapnel from the round that had hit them. If the geth had targeted a few meters over, that piece of shrapnel would have gone right through him.

And then, he thought wearily, maybe he could have gotten some sleep. One emergency patch later, Donnelly began repressurizing the engineering deck. He heard the hiss around him as air was restored.

"Conn, Engineering."

"Go."

"Pressure has been restored in Main Engineering. I still show loss of atmosphere between here and the elevator."

"Damage control parties are in route," said EDI. "Estimate thirty minutes to fully restore internal pressure."

"Engineering, this is Medbay," said Chakwas. "How is Jack?"

Donnelly looked her over. Her eyes were closed, and he was pretty sure her skin wasn't supposed to be that ashen.

"She's breathing, Doctor. But she's very pale, I don't like the look of it."

"Time is critical, Marcus," said Chakwas. "We need to get her stabilized _now_."

He thought about his available options. "We've got some emergency softsuits in here, I'll try to get her into one and carry her up. Engineering out."

* * *

Donnelly was tired and hurt and amped up on adrenaline. And therefore he thought he had killed the connection, but he had instead put his suit comm on general broadcast. And then Jack came to as he tried to get the emergency suit onto her.

And so the ship was treated to the sound of his normal slight Scots accent thickening into a brogue one could cut with a knife.

"All right, lassie, let's get you up. Ach, stop it! I told ye, it's me! Okay? Right, boots off. 'Cause ye canne fit 'em intae the legs, that's why! Now, stop wriggling! Okay, _this_ leg in here, _that_ leg in there. Right, now arms...STOP IT! Swear to god, I'll gi' ya a wallop tae remember if you hit me again, ya wee daft scunner! Heerrg...stop flailin' yer fookin' haid around! C'mon, hold still ye dafty...Okay, good, helmet on...Okay, now lass, look at me, okay? Stay with me..."

* * *

Donnelly dimly remembered depressurizing Engineering again. He remembered moments of heading up the dimly-lit service tunnels, with Jack clinging to his front. He also kept remembering another more horrible time in a hardsuit, holding on to the outside of a wounded warship under the glare of an evil mechanized god. The weight of Jack against his chest kept bringing him back to the present.

He definitely remembered getting to medbay. His side was on fire, every breath was now pure agony. Chakwas peeled Jack off of him and began to take her out of the softsuit. He looked around in a daze. Chakwas was just in her uniform, so he guessed there was air. He didn't remember going through an airlock. He reached up to undo his helmet and gave out an agonized grunt.

"Marcus, stop", yelled Chakwas. "You are not to move. Get him into that chair there and make sure he stays there until I can get a look at him." Somebody took Marcus's hand, towed him over to a nearby chair, and gently sat him down. The hands then unlatched his helmet and pulled it off. He took a deep breath of fresher air, then gave a little sob from the pain. Donnelly looked up at his helper.

"Kasumi?"

"Don't look so surprised. I'm an actual licensed nurse practitioner. Of course, the license has a false name on it, but the training is legitimate. Now, my big strapping man, let's have a look at you." She shone a light in his eyes and checked the pulse in his throat. She checked the monitors on his suit and pursed her lips.

"I'm fine, Kasumi. It's...ach...some busted ribs, no big deal. Just...check on Jack."

"You're not going to be stubborn and go walking anywhere?"

Donnelly shook his head.

"Because," continued Kasumi, "if you do get up, I will knock you down and sit on you."

Donnelly gave her a ghost of a grin. "Now, lass, most men would consider that a reward, not a punishment."

"Sweet talker. By the way, your accent is adorable when you're angry. I'm going to go give Chakwas a hand and you don't go anywhere."

Donnelly nodded. He closed his eyes and half-dozed for a bit. There was a light touch on his shoulder, and he started awake. Garrus loomed over him. The turian's mandibles worked with obvious emotion. His eyes kept flicking over to Jack's bed. Chakwas and Kasumi were bent over her, working furiously and speaking to each other in low tones.

"Are you okay?" asked the turian.

"I would shrug," replied Donnelly, "but that hurts too much. Here's an important safety tip, if you have to fight a crazy biotic make sure she doesn't have a bottle. How is she?"

Garrus blew air out his nose. "Not sure. It's worse than simple shock. Apparently when she ran out of energy reserves her muscle tissue started to get consumed. I guess she's stable for now, but they're trying to keep her hydrated and full of glucose."

Donnelly nodded. "I never found out what she was doing in the medbay in the first place," he said.

Garrus shrugged. "It was a training injury, of all things. She and Samara were doing some drills and it got a little spirited."

They both looked over at Jack's bed in silence. Garrus finally spoke again.

"By the way, what exactly _is_ a 'wee daft scunner'?"


	8. World Keeps Turning

Much later, Donnelly was finally out of his hardsuit. Chakwas had injected some kind of self-assembling brace to fixture his ribs. She had then dosed him with some medi-gel and some very lovely painkillers, and instructed him to stay in bed. He was quite happy to do so. He checked in with his staff and the damage control parties to make sure that repairs were going well, and then tried to sleep. That sleep was elusive, since the ground team kept coming in to check on Jack. Even Grunt put in an appearance, looking rather embarrassed as he squeezed his huge frame through the door. When Zaeed came through, he also slapped Donnelly on the shoulder and said "Duck next time, okay Chiefy?"

Finally Shepard came in and chased everyone out, and Donnelly was able to pass out. Jack was still unconscious when he woke, but her skin looked better and she was breathing easily. "Stubborn," was all Chakwas would say. "Such a stubborn girl."

The doctor scanned his side. "Well, it looks like you managed to avoid getting anything important punctured. I would say you're fit for light duty, but I would prefer you stay here for the night."

"Oh Doctor, how long I've waited for you to say that."

She gave him a smirk. "I can see you're feeling better."

"You should get some sleep, too," he said. Chakwas glanced over at Jack.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Doctor. And EDI will keep an eye on us both, right EDI?"

"Of course, Mr. Donnelly"

Chakwas sagged a bit. "I will admit, I am exhausted. You people keep coming up with new ways to make my life interesting."

"Aw, come on Doc. Two cracked ribs? Hardly worth getting you out of bed for."

"Two _broken_ ribs, Marcus. It's a bloody wonder you didn't give yourself a punctured lung, and I don't know how you avoided getting a concussion. Right, I'm off to bed. Please hold off on any grievous bodily injuries for the next ten hours." She left the medbay.

Donnelly sat up and tested his movement. Walking was still painful, but at least he could breathe more easily. He pulled a chair over to Jack's bed and sat, looking at her. Her face was peaceful and composed for the first time he could remember. Underneath the bruises and the tattoos and the piercings, he could see the ordinary and beautiful young woman she might have been.

And now never would be. Her words in Engineering came back to him.

 _-no more CUTTING-_

Jesus and the saints, what had she gone through? What had _happened_ to her as a child?

"Hrrm..." muttered Jack, and she stirred. When her eyes opened, she was looking at the ceiling. She suddenly snapped her head around in panic, taking in the medical instruments and clinical surroundings before settling on his face.

"Jack, it's okay. You're on the _Normandy_. This isn't a hospital, this is the medbay on the _Normandy_ , okay?"

She nodded, her eyes focused on his face. Her mouth worked and she tried to speak. All that came out was a little croak.

"Don't worry, you don't have to speak. You're okay, you were in shock." She held out a hand, and he took it. She squeezed his hand, hard. Jack brought her other hand up and crooked her index finger to beckon him closer. She gave another croak.

"What is it, Jack?"

He leaned in, and she rose up and put her lips to his ear.

"...you are such an Assface..." she breathed.

He sat back and regarded her, then chuckled. "Oh yeah, you're gonna be fine."

Jack gave a small smile, then suddenly her eyes filled with tears. She rolled over away from him and hugged herself into a ball. Donnelly stood up and tucked the bedsheets back over her. He almost walked away. He thought a little bit more, then sat back down.

"I'm gonna tell ya a wee story," he said. "I used to be a boxer. Professionally, I mean."

"Is that why your nose is all messed up?" murmured Jack.

"Yeah. It's also why my eyes look a little funny, it's the scar tissue around 'em. I used to be a hell of a scrapper as a kid, y'know, football hooligan stuff. Me poor mum put me into boxing lessons to 'channel my aggression positively'. Heh. Anyways, back in my prime I was in the Light-Heavyweight category. It was a pain in the arse to keep my weight in the right range to qualify, but it was all part of my cunning plan, see? Not a very common weight class, so's I could be a big fish in a small pond. And I was doing pretty good. Really good, actually. I was Mad Marcus Donnelly, the Glasgow Hurricane-"

"Get the fuck out," said Jack. She rolled back over to look at him. "You were not called that."

"Swear on me mum's grave. So's I'm starting to think I'm hot shit, and decide that the time has come for old Mad Marcus to make the step up to the big time and be a proper Heavyweight. My first couple of fights, it was no problem. My third fight...oh, sweet Jesus. His name was Narcyz Kowalski. Polish fella, just huge, built like a bulldozer. And tall, I mean, this fucker would give Garrus a run for his money, you know? Nice guy though, he'd give ya the shirt off his back. But step in the ring with him and he'd do his level best to take your head off."

Donnelly smiled, his eyes far off. "So, me being Mister Clever-Arse, I know there's no way to overpower him physically. My idea was to stick and move, right? Float like a butterfly and all that. I was gonna keep jabbing at him, get way ahead on points. If he landed a few, well that was okay as long as I got the judges' decision."

He shook his head. "I lasted ten rounds. It was going pretty well, if I do say so myself. I had one of his straights bounce off my ear...that didn't feel so good. But I'd kept up the jab, and his right eye was almost closed. A few more shots, and I might have actually gotten the fight called in my favor. But then I screwed up. I went left when I should have gone right, and walked into the sweetest right hook you ever saw. I've seen the vid from the fight, that punch was a thing of beauty. Michelangelo would've painted it onto a ceiling if he'd seen it. I don't remember much about the end of the fight, but I do remember the feel of that right hook connecting."

"You lost," said Jack.

"Oh, yeah. It was a knockout." Donnelly gave a brief belly laugh. "Poor Narcyz was beside himself when I came to. He'd thought he'd killed me. I did a few more matches after that, but the thrill was gone."

Jack sniffled. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "So what's the point of your 'wee story'? Powering through adversity or some such bullshit?"

Donnelly leaned forward. "My point is, I've been beaten on a lot in my life. I've been beaten on by _professionals_. And that right hook from Narcyz is the hardest that I have ever been hit in my entire life. That is, up until about twelve hours ago. Then a wee slip of a girl launched me into the wall like I was shot from a catapult. And then kicked me hard enough to break two ribs right through my armor. You're the new record holder."

Jack shifted her eyes away. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking for an apology. I'm trying to tell you that _you are not weak_. You haven't been that weak little girl for a very long time. I don't...I don't know what happened to you. I don't need to know what happened. I figure there are bad things in your past, but that is _your_ past. And I don't want to pry, you know? I hate it when people pry."

"Me too."

"Yeah, heh, you made that clear. But here and now...now you're strong. And you have friends here, which makes you even stronger. The whole ground team came through here while you were asleep. Hell, even Grunt looked worried. I think he was worried. I can never tell with krogans."

"Why should they care about me? I fucked up, Assface."

Donnelly crossed his arms and nodded. "Yes, you did. It happens. I fucked up when I thought I was good enough to hang with the heavyweights. I fucked up when I didn't do a physical check of your quarters after the first alert. I fucked up when I didn't get EDI in the loop sooner."

Jack rubbed her eyes. "I just...I couldn't stay in here, you know? I can't do hospitals. I can't be around needles." She shivered. "I knew I just needed some pain meds and a place to sleep. And Zaeed had a bottle he wouldn't miss. And when you woke me up, you looked like one of the guards from that place..." She trailed off.

"Okay," said Donnelly. "There's going to be plenty of blame to go around. We'll let Shepard yell at us for a bit, and then we'll all move on and help each other do better. Because we are all a team, and we are all friends now, okay?"

There was a long pause.

"Okay," said Jack, in a small voice.

"Good." He reached over and patted her shoulder. "Now get some sleep." He stood up.

"Hey, Assface?" She grabbed his arm.

"Jack, I'm not leaving. I'm going to be sleeping right over there."

"I just want to know...why aren't you afraid of me?" She stared at him in confusion. "You've never been afraid of me. Even that first day, when I was doing my 'big bad biotic bitch' routine. You just stood there. Hell, even Shepard looked a little concerned when I pulled that shit with him."

Donnelly shrugged, and looked away. "Maybe I'm stupid."

"No, you're not. But everybody else looks at me like I'm the devil."

"You're not that, Jack."

"How do you know?"

He looked down at her, not really seeing her. He remembered a black shape and a giant red eye.

"Because I've seen the devil."

* * *

Shepard never yelled or screamed, he wasn't that kind of CO. He somehow made sure you knew how _disappointed_ he was, though. There was a lot of back-and-forth, with everybody trying to take the blame for the whole mess. Jack, Donnelly, and even EDI tried to claim responsibility. The AI's interjection surprised Donnelly. "I am not a simple VI," she told Shepard. "I should have realized the danger, and taken the initiative to notify the crew."

Donnelly watched as Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. The Commander looked at both him and Jack, standing before the seated Spectre in the conference room. Shepard leaned back in his chair. "Duly noted, EDI. Okay, everybody, what are the lessons learned from this fiasco? Jack, I appreciate certain surroundings are stressful for you, but we cannot allow that to impact this ship's performance. I know you have been ducking Ms. Chambers, but you _will_ start talking to her. And the access tunnels are off limits to you as of right now. Marcus, you made the most of a bad situation but you did make several poor assumptions. I will take it as a given that you won't make those mistakes again. EDI, I realize your instinct may be to wait to give out information until asked a direct question, but as of right now you are to consider yourself an equal crewmember. Chime in when you see the need to. Clear?"

"Very clear, Shepard. Logging out."

"Okay. Dismissed, you two." Jack stalked out the door ahead of Donnelly, and he was just about to follow her when Shepard spoke.

"Actually, Marcus, can you hang back a bit? I have someone for you to meet."

Donnelly walked back in, a little curious. He'd heard that they'd picked up a new crew member on Haestrom, a quarian. He had never met one before. Shepard tapped his omni-tool. "Tali, can you meet us in the conference room?"

After a little pause, the door opened and in came the new crew member. She was indeed a quarian, clad in a close-fitting black and purple environmental suit. Donnelly was surprised at how ornate the suit was; it was far from utilitarian. Her head was covered by a cowl marked with intricate tracings. Her smooth purple visor tilted as she regarded Donnelly, and behind the visor he could just make out two shining silver eyes. Donnelly glanced over and saw Shepard smiling with real warmth.

"Tali'Zorah vas Neema, this is Chief Engineer Marcus Donnelly," said Shepard. Tali nodded a greeting. Donnelly tentatively stuck out a hand, then reconsidered.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, "I don't know if it's proper to shake hands in your culture."

Donnely saw Tali's eyes crinkle with amusement. "Mr. Donnelly, I assure you I'm very familiar with human customs." Her voice had a lovely little quaver to it, apparently part of her suit's speaker system. There was a little light in the front of her helmet that flashed in time with her speaking; the 'engineer' part of Donnelly's brain wondered what sort of purpose that light was for. Tali extended her own three-fingered hand and gave his hand a firm shake.

"If it's okay with you, Marcus," said Shepard, "I'd like to have Tali incorporated into the engineering staff."

Donnelly shrugged. "We can certainly use the help. Even with three people, we're always trying to figure out if something's just not working properly or if the original _Normandy_ specs were wrong. That's on top of dealing with normal wear and tear."

Tali drew herself up proudly. "I can definitely help in that case. I was on the original _Normandy_ during the pursuit of Saren. Engineer Adams and I were able to solve a lot of the ship's...I think you call them 'teething issues'."

Donnelly regarded her with something like hunger. "Miss Neema-" he began.

"Miss Zorah would be more accurate, actually," she interrupted. "But honestly, Tali is fine."

"Okay Tali, do you cook?" asked Donnelly.

She glanced over at Shepard, as if seeking support. "Er..no?"

"That's too bad," said Donnelly. "If you did, I'd have to marry you."

* * *

Samara stared into the void of space without really seeing it. Her focus was on the small swirling white orb in front of her. Long practice had made this a pleasant and automatic exercise. She remembered the first few times she had tried this particular feat; it had felt like she was trying to support her entire body weight on one finger. The door behind her hissed open. From the clump of the newcomer's boots, Samara guessed that it was Jack.

"Hey, Blue? I know you're bein' all one with the universe and shit, but can we talk?"

"Of course, Jack." Samara gently eased off of her inner control, canceling the orb. The ability to fade out the orb, rather than have it dissipate in a bang, was something else that had taken her long practice to achieve. Samara indicated the spot next to her. The young tattooed woman clumped over and sat, her legs stretched out carelessly in front of her. They both stared out the observation window in silence for a while.

"You kicked my ass, Blue. You kicked it good," said Jack.

Samara nodded. "Yes. Did you wish to set up another sparring session?"

"Nope. You're too fast and too experienced. I could try to be all tactical and stuff, and maybe I'd get lucky. But I know when I'm outclassed."

The justicar was surprised. Her initial impression of Jack was of someone who would never back down, never admit defeat. Someone who would attack regardless of the consequences. She looked over at Jack, trying to really gauge the young human.

"I have to admit," she said aloud, "I did not expect you to say that."

"Yeah, because I'm the crazy she-bitch that everyone has to tiptoe around. I may _be_ crazy, but I'm also self-aware. And dancin' around with you tradin' punches is not going to help me get better."

So she wished to improve. This was another surprise. "You wish to train in my Order's combat style? It may be quite difficult. Humans are physically similar to asari, but my style assumes a flexibility which you may not be able to achieve."

Jack shook her head. "Nah. I tend to be too much of a brawler, anyway. I get into a fight, and I just wanna run in and smash the bastard."

The young woman held out a hand, and a blue glow appeared around it. "I saw you in action, back when we recruited you. I saw you _float_ like a feather. I can slow my fall, if I really concentrate. But even then I hit the ground hard. I want to learn better biotic control. Hell, maybe I could even learn that glowy-ball thing you were just doing. It looks cool."

Samara turned herself to face Jack. The human also turned, and hugged her knees to her chest. "The 'glowy-ball', as you put it," said Samara, "is a simultaneous biotic expansion and contracting singularity, overlaid one on top of the other in perfect balance. It took me fifty years to master."

Jack sighed. "Yeah, I know, I know. I'm too undisciplined, and I won't live long enough to be able to train as much as you have, and all that. But I want to at least try to get better at what I can do, whatever that is. Because helping each other get better is apparently something a team does."

Samara was silent. Jack kept talking, apparently taking her silence as negative. "I know I'm not what you'd look for in a student, Blue. I mean, aside from the whole not-an-asari thing. If we'd met before you swore your loyalty to Shepard...you would have probably tried to kill me."

"I don't ask about people's pasts," said Samara. "And had we met previously, I would have only acted if you had done something in front of me which required action." She paused. "My only concern is that...I sense you have experienced a significant amount of pain."

"Heh. You could say that."

"Past issues can make this harder. Because the most useful technique you can learn involves just letting _go_. You are powerful, but you use that power like a hammer, like a tool. Your power is not a tool. It is _you_ , and you will only unlock its true potential when you can just act and let it flow through you. You won't need to think about it, or control it. It will simply be."

Samara gave Jack a gentle smile as she continued. "It is simple to say, but much more difficult to do. However, if you can accomplish it then it's the only thing I will really need to teach you."

Jack nodded. "Okay. How long will it take? I don't have a few hundred years to try."

The asari shrugged. "It could happen in the next few minutes. It's not a matter of time, but of making the necessary mental breakthrough. Ironically, my species' long lifespan tends to make letting go of the past harder. And, conversely, I have met several humans who are good at letting go. Your species may call it meditation, but it is much the same thing. Marcus, for example, is surprisingly good at it."

"Assface does meditation?"

The smile dropped off Samara's face and she stared at Jack with narrowed eyes. The human fidgeted, then finally murmured, "It's okay, it's just a...term of affection."

Samara raised one eyebrow. She really didn't understand human interactions, not yet. "Very well," she said aloud. "Would you like to begin?"

Jack nodded, her face tense. She shifted her legs, mirroring Samara's lotus position.

"Excellent. What you wish to achieve is what some call a state of 'no-mind'. You are not asleep, you are not unaware, you simply take in sensory input and let it go through you. Let us focus on the most important thing, the breath. Take a deep breath, as if you are bringing air all the way down to your stomach..."

* * *

Tali and Donnelly were getting along famously. He was almost beside himself with glee. The original _Normandy_ had been a prototype, with all of the unexpected problems that came with being the first ship of its class. And the new frigate, instead of simply being a refined version of the original, was even bigger and had a different internal layout. It may as well have been another prototype. But Tali had helped with the original's shakedown cruise, and there had been many modifications that had never made it into the official records. She was a fount of information, all of it useful.

So far, the other two engineering staff seemed to accept her, although Rogers had conspicuously avoided speaking with her. Donnelly hoped there wouldn't be a problem there. It was late at night on the day after their initial meeting, and Donnelly and Tali were still chattering away as they scanned through schematics in Engineering.

"That's the problem, you need T6-FBA couplings here," said Tali. She tapped a section of the schematic. "We put those in the original _Normandy_ , and we were able to cut down our maintenance by eighty percent."

"I always thought there was something off about that whole system," replied Donnelly. "But the couplings we have are what the spec called for, and we can't exactly do research while trying to keep the ship going."

He thought a little bit more. "Do they even make those anymore?"

Tali shook her head. "You'd have to try a used parts dealer, I think."

Donnelly suddenly felt a tattooed presence at his back.

"Hey, Assface, are you and the Buckethead gonna be yakking much longer? Some of us are trying to fuckin' sleep."

"Sorry, Jack. Tali'Zorah vas Neema, this is Jack."

Tali turned a little hesitantly. "Hello, Jack. Um...I think you should know that 'bucket head' is not considered a nice name among our people."

"Whatever, Buckethead. I just had three hours of havin' a perky redhead trying to be my best friend. Ugh, I wanted to squish her so bad-"

"Now Jack," said Donnelly. "No squishing the ship's counselor. Shepard will be very disappointed in you. He will give you the _sad_ look. He may even break out the heavy sigh."

Jack gave him a sneer and flipped him the finger. "Break it up in five minutes or I start pissin' in the corners." She stomped off below. Tali stood in shock for a moment, then turned a questioning eye to Donnelly.

He shrugged. "She's a...real sweetheart, once you get to know her."


	9. Hold On

Jack figured she should stop rolling her eyes, or she was going to sprain something. She had agreed to this 'field trip', as Donnelly called it, so that she could look at something other than the same damn walls and same damn people she'd been looking at for months.

So now she got to look at _this_ place, which was a dark, dank corridor in Omega. Condensation dripped from random places, and there was a faint smell of garbage in the air. The whole scene was bathed in flickering fluorescent lights. One side of the corridor was lined with people selling all sorts of crap. At least, in her opinion, it was crap. Assface and the Buckethead seemed to think this was heaven.

"Hey, that's a Gerber 4CX heat exchanger! I haven't seen one of those in ages!" exclaimed Donnelly. He was pointing at something that, to Jack, looked like some random mess of metal. Its seller, a dumpy-looking human, straightened up and put a smile on his face.

"Going for a fair price, I assure you good sir!" said the seller. Jack turned away as Donnelly began haggling, and looked around. Tali was off at another booth, paging through an inventory screen and bouncing with excitement. Jack sighed, and hoped that somebody would try to mug them. Now _that_ would be fun.

"Wow, Jack, look at this!" said Donnelly behind her. She turned back to look at the engineer's happy face, then down at the metal widget he was carrying. He really did seem to think it was something beautiful.

"Congratulations, Assface. I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together." She started walking away. Donnelly slung his new purchase into a duffel bag and puttered along after her, still chortling over his find. "So what is it good for?" she called over her shoulder.

"Well, it's not an exact fit for our heat exchangers, but some of the internal components are. I should be able to take the guts out of the case and weld them in as a replacement, if we need to. I might do it anyway. This thing's made of a niobium-iridium alloy and has an electroplated internal fractal design-"

"Now you're _really_ boring me."

"You could always go back to the ship," said Donnelly. He didn't sound mad, more like just stating her options.

Jack shook her head. "Ohhhh, no. I stay out here and I can tell Shepard that I'm engaging in social activities with the crew. That makes him happy, and then I don't have to deal with the perky counselor twit."

"Suit yourself," he said. They caught up to Tali, who was asking questions of the heavy-set Batarian behind the counter. The Batarian did a double take as he saw them, which actually looked very impressive when done by somebody with four eyes. Jack wondered if that would make it an 'eight-take'.

"Donnelly! You shifty excuse for an engineer!" the batarian roared. His face was furious.

"Bartock! You jumped-up slave driver!" Donnelly roared back. He looked just as angry.

There was a tense moment. Jack shifted her feet and ready to squish the batarian. She was caught off guard by a sudden bout of laughter from both Donnelly and Bartock. There was then a great deal of hand-shaking between the two.

"Good to see you again, Marcus," said Bartock. "Let me take care of this customer, and we can catch up."

Tali shrugged "It's all right, we're together."

"I see. And so is this young lady, I assume?" Bartock nodded to Jack. He actually smiled at her, it was probably the first smile she'd ever gotten from a batarian.

"Yeah, Hi," Jack muttered.

Bartock turned to Donnelly. "I assume that your colleagues here are part of why you left Omega?"

Donnelly gave a little shrug. "Something like that."

Bartock shook his head. "I told you when you left, you had a pretty sweet set up here. I keep getting requests for you, and I keep having to tell them you're off doing who knows what."

"I told _you_ , Bartock, I'm off saving the galaxy," Donnelly's voice dripped with sarcasm.

The batarian laughed. "Sure, sure. Play it mysterious. I bet you're working on an ore hauler." He turned a couple of eyes to Jack. "Or maybe a pirate ship?" he asked her, but there was a smile on his face.

Jack smiled back. "Oh, please. You know Assface. Does he strike you as pirate material?"

Bartock tilted his head to the right. "Assface?"

Donnelly waved a hand dismissively. "It's a term of endearment. I hope."

"Yes," said Tali. "And I'm Buckethead, apparently. If we stay here too long, I imagine Jack will come up with a name for Mr. Bartock."

Bartock put up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, no need for name-calling." Jack had caught a flicker of recognition in the batarian's eyes at the mention of her name. Shit, was there a bounty on her head here? She couldn't remember, exactly. There were a lot of bounties to keep track of. She had once sat down to figure out how much they tallied to when added together, and it came to at least the high seven figures. It might have gone up since then.

"Anyway," continued Bartock, "your friend here was looking for T6-FBA couplings. I haven't had any for a while, but I seem to remember the new quarian lad in the next hall had mentioned he'd gotten some. That's the only place I know of on Omega."

"Thanks, Bartock," said Donnelly, and shook hands again with the batarian. "See you around, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," replied Bartock. "Just come on back as soon as the galaxy is saved, okay?"

The three headed off down the hall. Jack turned several questions over in her mind. "So, Assface," she said, "you were here before joining the _Normandy_?"

"Yep. I did odd jobs around Omega for about a year. Bartock has a pretty good network of clients, and we're on a space station. Everything needs fixing, eventually. It was a good living." They came out of the main corridor and entered a narrower, right-angled hallway. They were alone for the moment.

"So why not stay?" asked Jack. "Not everywhere in Omega is a shithole. It can be nice here."

"Because the galaxy needs saving," replied Donnelly. His voice wasn't sarcastic this time.

Jack almost rolled her eyes again. "Oh, please. I know we're doing good works and shit. Hell, the Collectors need a solid kicking just on general principle. But they're not gonna kill us all."

Donnelly stopped dead, and Jack almost collided with his broad back. He turned to look at her in utter confusion. "You can't be serious." His voice was no longer light.

Now it was Jack's turn to be confused. "Yeah, I know there's supposedly these Reaper things that the Collectors are working for. Shepard keeps going on about them. I just figured he was a little...you know." She tapped her temple. "I mean, the guy _was_ dead for two years. You don't come back from that and be all there."

Tali crossed her arms, and from her stance Jack could tell the buckethead was pissed. Donnelly didn't look too happy, either.

"Besides," continued Jack, "If these Reaper guys were real, the Council and the Alliance would be all over that shit. They'd be building ships, doing all sorts of science-y shit, making big guns..." Her two companions looked at each other, and then both looked at the floor. They didn't look angry anymore. Jack suddenly had a nasty suspicion. "They would, wouldn't they?" she asked, almost pleading.

Donnelly gave a bitter chuckle. "Never underestimate the power of denial," he muttered.

Tali touched Jack's shoulder. "Jack, the Reapers are real. You spoke to one."

"What?" Maybe the buckethead had blown a gasket.

"I saw the footage from Horizon," said Tali. "That 'Harbinger' creature that attacked you had a voice that sounded very much like Sovereign." Tali shuddered. "I suspect that particular Collector was being remotely controlled by a Reaper."

"Oh." Jack remembered the horrible feeling she had on Horizon, when those glowing eyes had looked at her. "Maybe so. Wait, how do you know what Sovereign's _voice_ sounded like? You spoke to it?"

Tali shook her head. "No, but I was in the room when Shepard confronted Sovereign's hologram. It is not my most pleasant memory."

"Oh. Then Sovereign wasn't a giant geth dreadnought?" Jack couldn't believe it. This was huge, why weren't the high-ups working on this? It was criminal negligence, even to a criminal like her.

"Nope, it wasn't," said Donnelly. "Both Tali and I saw old Sovvy up close and personal during the Battle of the Citadel. No way that thing was just a big geth ship."

Tali tilted her head. "Marcus, I didn't know you were on the Citadel then."

Donnelly shrugged. "I wasn't, I was on the _Perugia_ during the battle." He turned and began walking around the bend in the corridor.

"Stop, big guy," said Jack. "No more mysterious past horseshit, okay? What happened? How do you know for real that Sovereign wasn't just a geth ship?"

Donnelly turned back, his face curiously expressionless. He sighed and leaned against the corridor wall with crossed arms. When he spoke, it was almost as if he was reading it off of a printout.

"The _Perugia_ was in the initial wave of Alliance ships, right after Shepard got the mass relay to the Citadel working again. The _Destiny Ascension_ was getting pecked to death by a swarm of smaller geth ships, and word came down to save the _Destiny_. And so we did. The Citadel arms were all closed up, so we couldn't do anything there anyway. The _Perugia_ did pretty well, we took down at least twelve of the geth ships. We did take a nasty hit on a starboard thruster pod. That limited our maneuverability, but we were still doing okay.

"Then Shepard got the Citadel arms opened up again. The fleet got the order to take out the big ship inside the Citadel. Our maneuvering was getting worse, so the thruster pod had to be fixed. I had to go outside to fix it. It wouldn't be too hard, either. One of the connectors had gotten sheared away by the strike, I could easily splice in a temporary bridge-"

Jack didn't process it right away because of his matter of fact tone. "Wait, wait," she interrupted. "You had to go _outside the ship_? In the middle of a _battle_?"

Donnelly gave her a faint smile. "We couldn't exactly call for a time-out, lassie."

Jack couldn't imagine pulling a stunt like that. "That's fucking nuts, dude."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't entirely crazy. I had a safety tether. And I got the thruster fixed pretty fast. But then when I was coming back, the _Perugia_ was making our first run at Sovereign. We had to do some hard maneuvers to get out of the way of it's attacks. I wound up getting flipped around pretty good. I couldn't get back to the airlock, not while the ship was jinking that much. I just had to hang onto the hull and wait out the battle."

He stared off into space, not seeing either of them. "I saw Sovereign, i saw...It. It was clamped onto the Council tower like a tick. It was huge and jet black, and had this giant red eye. I was out there, face-to-face with It. I watched It kill at least six ships around me. I was waiting for It to kill me too. And then It seemed to...see me. I don't know, they kept telling me I was just imagining things. And It spoke. Right through vacuum, right through my suit, It made this _noise_ that vibrated my skull." Donnelly tightened his arms, almost hugging himself. "I could have sworn it was saying my name. I don't want to think about it. Anyway, they came and pried me off the hull after it was all over. Gave me a commendation for bravery." He gave a dark chuckle. "And then they proceeded to ignore the whole damn thing."

Tali patted Donnelly's arm. "You did well, Marcus. I think the noise you heard was when Saren was...transformed into Sovereign's puppet. I remember hearing a noise from outside the tower right after that."

"Damn, Buckethead," said Jack. "You saw Sovereign too?"

Tali nodded. "I remember during our final push up the Council tower. Sovereign was up the top and just kept getting bigger and bigger as we got closer. I had a crazy thought while we were going up...I thought the Reaper was just going to keep getting big enough to eat the whole universe."

Jack shook her head. "You're both fuckin' crazy." The reality started to sink in. "Holy shit," she said. "This is real, isn't it? Giant evil robots coming to kill us all."

"We'll be waiting for them," said Donnelly. "They're not immortal." He took a deep breath. "After all, Sovereign's dead."

The three stood in silence for a moment, then Donnelly shook his head in annoyance. "C'mon," he said, "let's see if we can find these damn couplings."

They did find Kenn the quarian, who did indeed have the damn couplings. Kenn was apparently on some kind of mission or pilgrimage, and had gotten stuck on Omega. Donnelly didn't haggle for once, and Jack could swear she saw the engineer sneak quite a few extra credits in as he paid Kenn. Tali and Kenn began chatting about Kenn's pilgrimage, and after a bit Jack tuned out.

This area was a little nicer, but not by much. It was less drippy, but the fluorescent lighting still flickered too much. However, a little ways over was a stand brightly lit with yellow neon. Hmmm...she was a little hungry, now that she thought about it. She nudged Donnelly.

"You want something to eat?"she asked him.

He nodded, and told Tali to take her time talking with Kenn. The pair strolled over to the snack stand. There were apparently burgers available. What the actual meat was, Jack didn't want to think about. They also served something called 'tacos'.

"This will keep the Doc happy too," said Jack. "She keeps bugging me to eat more."

They settled on tacos, and after a little bit the morose-looking turian behind the counter gave them their food. They stood off to the side and ate in silence for a while. The 'taco' wasn't bad, but also contained mystery meat of some sort. Oh, well. Jack knew she'd eaten worse.

"So how well do you know Bartock?" she asked Donnelly.

"Pretty well. We worked together for about a year. Why do you ask?"

"It was just weird, seeing a human and a batarian getting along." Jack was also wondering if Bartock would try to claim any outstanding bounty on her, but figured it wouldn't be prudent to say so.

Donnelly nodded. "Once you get 'em away from Hegemony influence, batarians aren't bad people. Bartock figured out that the Hegemony was spewing crap propaganda, and so he lit out for Omega on his own. He's a rare one, but yeah I'd say he's a good guy."

Jack finished her taco. She hoped Donnelly was right. The engineer seemed fond of Bartock, and he wouldn't like it if Jack killed his batarian friend.

Tali came bouncing up. "I think we're all set." She had the couplings slung over one shoulder in another duffel bag.

"Hey, Buckethead, did you want something to eat...oh."

Tali gave Jack an ironic tilt of her head. The buckethead could be very expressive, even without a visible face. "Sorry," muttered Jack. "I forgot."

"No problem, Jack. I appreciate the thought."

The trio began to make their way back to the _Normandy_. For once, Jack was looking forward to seeing the inside of the ship. She'd kept trying to remember if she'd pulled a job on Omega. Probably nothing big; Aria T'Loak was a total bitch about unauthorized large-scale theft. Such things definitely counted as 'fucking with Aria' unless the asari crime boss got a significant taste. So Jack probably didn't have any outstanding bounties on Omega itself.

They crossed a little 'T' intersection, and Jack caught sight of some armored mercenaries lounging around down one of the side passageways. The group consisted of two humans and two salarians, and all wore the golden 'E' of Eclipse on their chests. Was it her imagination, or had their collective glance lingered a little too long on her?

She kept a lookout as they progressed. On further thought, somebody could still make a run at them. After all, the bounty wouldn't have to be on Omega itself, would it? Jack tried to think of how many of her bounties were 'dead or alive' ones. She knew most of the 'alive, no matter what' ones were from Cerberus. Crap. She really should sit down sometime and figure this all out. Just in case they went somewhere where she could be shot on sight.

They were in a smaller side-corridor now. Just as they approached the next intersection, two of the Eclipse mercs she'd seen earlier stepped around and blocked their path. It was the two humans, and now they had their helmets on and pistols out. Donnelly stopped and stood there with his duffel slung over one shoulder and his hands in his pockets. He looked unperturbed, almost like he was going to fall asleep. Jack heard Tali's duffel hit the ground with a thud and simultaneously the clack of Tali's shotgun being chambered. Jack glanced behind and saw the two salarian Eclipse mercs at the other end of the corridor. The salarians had been starting to draw their weapons, but were now frozen at the sight of the unwavering bore of Tali's weapon.

Just as Jack turned her eyes back at the two humans, she saw that one of them had stepped forward with and raised his pistol. It was trained on Donnelly, about two inches away from the engineer's face. Jack's fist flared with blue light, but the human with the pistol shook his head.

"No biotics, Jack," said the merc. "Do you know how much you're worth?"

Jack felt the welcome thrill up her spine. Finally, _she_ got to have some fun. "No. Why don't you tell me?"

"I don't think so. There's no reason for this to get ugly. You will come with us, quietly. We'll dose you with a biotic suppression drug. Or I will put one through your boyfriend's eye." Jack saw Donnelly quirk one amused eyebrow back at her.

The merc glanced at her. "Now, Jack, or I-"

Donnelly moved whip-fast. He slipped his head in, past the merc's gun, and his left hand came out of his pocket. Jack thought she saw something glittering on the engineer's fist. He punched upward into the merc's face, his arm looping over the merc's gun arm. The punch connected square with the merc's visor, which cracked into a crazy spiderweb pattern.

Just as Donnelly hit with his punch, Jack reached with her power for the other human. She also heard the boom of Tali's shotgun behind her. Jack _yanked_ the merc over her head, turning him into a projectile. She aimed him at the two salarians, and saw that one was already down thanks to Tali. The other salarian looked up just in time to get a human-sized cannonball to the face.

She spun back towards Donnelly, and saw that the engineer had trapped the first merc's gun arm to his side. Donnelly's big right hand had clamped onto the front of the merc's helmet and was merrily and repeatedly pounding it into the corridor wall. Even with the helmet's protection, Jack figured the merc's brain was bouncing around pretty good inside his skull. Donnelly finally let go and the merc slid to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Jack walked over to the other end of the corridor. One salarian had a nice hole through the chest, and the other two mercs were tumbled together and definitely out cold. She snorted.

"I guess it's their lucky day for three of 'em," she said. "I'd normally finish them off. But right now let's just get the fuck out of here."

Donnelly nodded. He slipped a set brass knuckles off his left hand and stuck it back in his pocket. Jack shook her head at him. "And here I thought you were a straight-up guy, Assface" she said. "That almost seems like cheating."

Donnelly gave her a big grin. "I told ya. I used to be a helluva scrapper when I was a wee lad."

Jack laughed. " _And_ you crawl around on spaceships during combat. Well, I guess if you're gonna be mistaken for my boyfriend, it's good to know you have a pair." It might have been her imagination, but she thought she saw a little disappointed flicker in Donnelly's eyes when she used the word 'mistaken'. Jack looked over at Tali. The quarian was holstering her shotgun. "I pegged you wrong, Buckethead. You got a pair too."

Tali shook her head. "If I understand the meaning of that term, I'm pretty sure I don't."

* * *

"I don't get it, Thane," said Joker. "I mean, how can you say that sometimes your body is responsible for something and not you?"

Dinnertime was winding down, but the mess was still crowded. Donnelly suspected it was due to curiosity about their new drell recruit. For once, the assassin had decided to eat in the mess hall instead of in life support, and the word had rapidly spread. Especially among the female part of the crew, from the looks of it. He looked around with a little amusement as he sipped his tea. Kelly, Kasumi, and the rest of the women were all there. They all looked at Thane with visible interest. Even Simons, the second-shift pilot, was here. That surprised him. Up until now, Donnelly had been pretty sure that Simons only liked the ladies.

Actually, not all of the women were there. Where was Jack? After the incident over Haestrom, Donnelly had made a particular point to keep track of Jack's location. He did a quick check on his omni-tool...Jack was checked into Shepard's cabin. _Hmmm._

Thane folded his hands in front of him on the table. "It seems odd, but it is quite simple," he said in his pleasant, rumbling voice. Donnelly had heard rumors that the assassin had some sort of terminal illness, and he wondered if the voice was a symptom.

"It is a matter of _agency_ ," the drell continued. "I understand that in most human religions, the anima or the soul is considered to have ultimate agency. It is the prime mover. It is responsible for all of its own actions."

Tali chimed in. "I don't believe in the soul, but for the sake of argument let's assume such a thing exists. Even then, the soul drives the body, correct?"

"Which would make me the _Normandy's_ soul," said Joker. "You guys need to worship me a little more. I take cash, or checks if you show your ID."

Donnelly heard the elevator hiss open, and Jack came around the corner. Her step was light, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was actually smiling as she grabbed some fruit and a couple of nutrient bars and sat down across from Donnelly. He felt her kick his shin under the table, and he nodded a greeting in return. She didn't look over at him, and instead stared at the drell.

"Sometimes the soul is in control," said Thane. "But you are not aware of every breath you take, correct? The body does that on its own. Also consider the acts of digestion and waste elimination. These are not controlled by any conscious effort on your part. They take place automatically. And many times, if you are performing an action that is very ingrained, you may find yourself operating without thinking."

Garrus tapped one talon on the table as he thought. "Yes, I've sometimes taken a shot and didn't really realize it until after the round was away."

Thane spread his hands. "So the soul does drive the body, but not all the time. And therefore, in...certain circumstances, the body may indeed be operating under the agency of another. The soul is in contact with the body, but not directing it."

"It sounds almost like a free-floating form of Cartesian Dualism," said Jack.

They all turned to stare at her.

"What are you fuckers looking at? Yes, the crazy bitch has read a book or two."

Donnelly smiled and sipped his tea. The elevator hissed again, and now Shepard came strolling in. As far as Donnelly could remember, this was the first time since the Horizon mission that he had seen his commanding officer smiling.

"Commander!" said Gardner. "Let me put together something for you."

"Nah, don't bother." The Spectre also took some fruit and bars, and sat at one end of the table. He smiled at everyone. "Good to see you all here together. It...it reminds me of old times."

Jack gave Shepard a gentle smile. Donnelly took another sip of tea as he looked at them both. Jack and Shepard together, eh? Hmm, he hadn't seen that one coming.

He took another sip. Yes, all things told it would be good for Jack, it would give her some stability. And it would be good for Shepard as well to have somebody. Donnelly didn't want to think about how long it must have been since the poor lad last had any companionship. Yes, on the whole this was without a doubt a good thing.

Donnelly realized he was gripping his mug very tightly. He stared at his hand in confusion. He set the mug down as if it was full of mercury fulminate, and flexed his hand open. Was he feeling...jealous? Donnelly sighed internally. He did not need this, not now...

"Hey Assface! Gardner asked you a fuckin' question!"

"Hmm, sorry?"

"I was just wondering what's up with the accent, that's all," said Gardner.

Donnelly drew himself up and fixed Gardner with a green-eyed stare. "Sergeant, I want you to understand something. I will only say this once. I do not _have_ an accent." He paused. "Nae oan yer bike, ya great bampot, an' stoop talking oot yer fanny flaps!"

There was laughter, and Thane even smiled.

Tali shook her head. "That really doesn't translate well. My visor keeps saying it's Spanish."

"I still say it's adorable," said Kasumi.

"No, seriously, Assface, spill," said Jack. "I wanna know too. Since I'm a scunner, whatever the fuck that is."

Donnelly rubbed his face. "It's not a big mystery. I grew up in Glasgow, which is not really thought of as a hotbed of intellectual prowess. My grades were good enough to get me into a posh school, and when I got there I felt a huge pressure to sound...well, to sound less like where I came from. It's just habit at this point. Except in extreme circumstances, I tend to revert back."

"Like when you're manhandling a crazy bitch into a pressure suit?" asked Jack.

"Aye, during times like that, ya wee scunner. Besides," he continued, thickening his accent slightly, "If I let it oot too much, I turn in'ta a verritable towerrr of raw sexual charisma. Gotta give our new wee green laddie a chance w' the ladies, right?"

Donnelly toasted Thane with his mug, and the drell nodded in reply. Jack kicked Donnelly in the shin again, harder this time. He gave her a mock glare. "What was that for?"

She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Just being a wee scunner."

"Heavens, woman, haven't you injured me enough?"

"Oohhh, is da big stwong man aww hurt?" Jack cooed. "Do you want momma to kiss it and make it better?" She suddenly vanished under the table, and Donnelly felt her yank up his pant leg.

"Hey-" he began.

"Not even a bruise, you big baby," said Jack from under the table. "Lemme give ya something to whine about." There was a sudden sharp pain as Donnelly felt her teeth go into the side of his calf.

"Ah! JE-sus!" he yelled, and jerked back, spilling tea on himself. "What the hell?"

Jack unfolded herself from under the table. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "You are _such_ a pussy, Assface. G'night, you jackoffs." She sashayed away to the elevator.

Shepard chuckled. "I'm glad to see Jack's finally interacting with the crew," he said with an arch tone.

Donnelly looked down and checked his leg. It hadn't been a mock bite; he could see the imprint of her teeth in his flesh. "What the hell got into her?" he grumbled. "At least she didn't break the skin." He pulled his pant leg back down.

"Good for you that Jack didn't," said Garrus. "If she drew blood, then according to turian custom you'd be bethrothed to each other."

"Oooh, interesting," purred Kasumi. She was seated next to Garrus. "So turian courtships consist of biting?"

Garrus gently tucked one talon under Kasumi's chin, tilted her head back, and gazed into her eyes. "Yeeesss," he purred back. "Biting, fine dining, formal wear, handcuffs, long walks on the beach. Occasional gunplay."


	10. Eyeball Kid

It wasn't until he got back to his cabin that Donnelly found the little slip of paper tucked into his boot.

COME TONIGHT. NOT TO FUCK, YOU PERV. NEED HELP.

Jack was pacing when he descended the stairs to her bunk. She glanced at him. "Heya. Sorry about getting all bitey. I didn't want to just ask you to come by, not in the open. If any of these Cerberus assholes want to know my business they'll have to work for it."

Donnelly leaned against the wall. "Don't worry. I'm tougher than I look."

Jack stopped pacing and put her hands to her head, as if to contain a great pressure. "Okay. Okay. Look, I don't trust easy. But I need your help. If...if there is any chance you might screw me over, just tell me now. Would you do that?"

He sighed. "Jack, I don't know what you're about to ask for. But I do care for you, as much as you may hate to hear it. So yes, I will help you. And I will not screw you over."

Jack sat on her bed. "We're changing course," she said. "Shepard just authorized it. All this stuff I've been working on, it's tied into that. I've managed to narrow down this...place I'm looking for to a cluster of ten systems. That's where we're headed. We've got a couple of stops before we get there, but that's our goal."

She looked up at him. "Ten systems is still a lot of territory to search. There's at least six different planets that could be this place. Going back and forth will eat up a lot of time. Shepard promised me that we'd look as long as it takes. But I know we're on a time limit. If there's any new word on another colony being snatched, or if they come up with some new tech for getting through the Omega 4 relay...we'd have to abandon the search." She rubbed her hands together and looked away. "I need this. I need help to find this place. Shepard said he couldn't help me figure it out, he couldn't say why. So I need you."

Donnelly didn't speak for a while.

"Jack," he finally said. "I think I have a good guess as to what this place is that you're looking for. I promised you my help, and you will have it. But it will be even more helpful if you can tell me _everything_. I'm not prying. I need to know so that we can be as thorough as possible."

Jack didn't meet his eyes. "I can't do that."

"So you don't trust me."

"I do, Assface! I do trust you! It's just...the less details you know the better. For your own safety, okay? These assholes are always listening in." She jerked her head up at the ceiling. "Hell, for all I know Cerberus is the group that set up the...place."

Donnelly nodded, his face grave. "So you're worried about bugs?"

"Of course, dumbass! They've admitted that they monitor all of our shit! That fucking cheerleader is probably listening to us right now!"

"I wouldn't say that," drawled Donnelly, and smiled.

Jack narrowed her eyes and peered at him. "Assface...what do you mean?"

Donnelly smiled even broader. Oh, he was going to savor this moment like a fine glass of scotch.

"Funny thing about maintenance," he said. "It's going on all the time. Eventually, it's like a background noise you don't even notice anymore. And if the Chief Engineer is doing it, well that's just him being proactive and hands-on, isn't it?"

Jack's eyes widened. Donnelly inspected a fingernail.

"And," he continued, "if there's a particular little area of the ship where only the Chief Engineer can _do_ maintenance, because a certain 'big bad biotic bitch' has put the fear of Christ into everyone else...well that's an opportunity, isn't it?"

"Opportunity?" croaked Jack.

"Yes. An opportunity to find, oh let's say this," and now Donnelly reached into one pocket and pulled out a small nodule the size of a pea. He dropped it onto the deck plates and crunched it under his boot.

"Or this." Drop. Crunch.

"Or this...now this is a nice one. I was thinking of maybe re-purposing the transmitter, but fuck it." Drop. Crunch. "Anyway you get the idea." He smiled happily.

Jack stared at him. Then shook her head. "I, no, that won't work," she finally said, her voice faint. "The fucking cheerleader will find out her bugs down here are gone, right?"

"Do you honestly think that Miranda is up in her office right now wearing headphones, sitting in front of a huge switchboard, and manually connecting one by one to all of the bugs on this ship?" asked Donnelly.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know...maybe?"

"For the last couple of days, Tali and I have tried to get a handle on how many monitoring devices there are onboard the _Normandy_. We think there's something like five _thousand_ in Main Engineering alone. I took out about five hundred out of this little space here. Think about how many others there must be in the rest of the ship. That's too much data for anyone to sift through. _That what EDI's for._ Forget all that cyberwarfare bollocks they're talking about, _that's_ the real reason they needed an AI for this ship. That was the only way they could hope to monitor such a huge amount of input."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah. I guess it does make sense." She thought some more. "But then won't EDI know the bugs are out?"

"Did you know you have a blind spot?" asked Donnelly.

"A what?" Jack sat back, unsure of the sudden change in conversation.

"A blind spot. In each of your lovely brown eyes. We all have them," and Donnelly tapped his temple next to his own left eye. "It's where the optic nerve attaches to your retina. That area is completely without sensors, and it can't see a thing. It's pretty big too. The apparent area is about the size of your thumbnail held at arm's distance. But you don't notice it, because your brain takes the surrounding image and sort of fills in the blind spot. It's a completely automatic process and you have no idea it's going on."

He grinned. "Now, the analogy is not quite the same for computer systems. And it's even harder when you've got an AI in the loop. But a little tweak here, some creative maintenance there, and you can achieve much the same effect."

"So you're saying-"

"I'm saying, lassie, that right here, right now, we are sitting comfortably in EDI's blind spot."

Donnelly held his hands out in a 'ta da!' gesture and gave a little bow.

Jack finally took in a breath. "You shifty, devious...wonderful motherfucker."

"I'm not a motherfucker, Jack. When it comes to gunplay, I'm a mediocre shot. I'm a decent boxer. But never forget that I am a fucking _great_ engineer."

Jack stood. She stared at him, her pupils huge. She stalked forward.

"Um-" Donnelly started.

She grabbed a double handful of his shirt and glared up at him, breathing heavily.

"Um, Jack?"

"Mister Chief Engineer Marcus Donnelly," she grated. "You have got me so fucking _horny_ right now."

Her earthy scent filled his head. She clearly hadn't showered in a while, and he found that he didn't care. It was a wonderful smell. It felt like there was a huge rope cinched around his chest, keeping him from getting enough air.

"Jack, I-"

She pressed her nose into his chest and breathed in deeply, smelling him as well. Then she leaned back.

"Can we take a rain check? Until after we find the place?" she asked.

His brain took awhile to get some blood back into it. "Check. For later, yes. Rain. Got it. Find the place first."

"Stay with me, big guy. Sorry, I'm not usually such a cock-tease but time is short and we've got a lot of shit to do." She patted his chest. "You and I have a date, though. Make sure you take lots of zinc beforehand."

* * *

Chief Pilot Jeff 'Joker' Moreau stretched in his chair and contemplated the problem of drift. They knew the Collectors used the Omega-4 mass relay to enter and exit the Terminus systems. Presumably the other side of the relay connected to their homeworld, or main base, or whatever. Intuitively, it would seem that all they had to do was camp out next to the Omega-4 relay and shadow the Collector ships as they came through. Or just take them out with some big damn missiles, which would be Joker's preference.

And it would be possible, if all ships coming through the relay came through close to the same spot. However, standard mass relay protocols resulted in at least several thousand kilometers of difference between where you _planned_ to emerge and where you _actually_ emerged. It was a source of great pride to Joker that his relay transits always had a drift of less than two thousand klicks. A few times he'd managed less than a thousand, which had been previously thought impossible.

And then, the relay itself had an active region of around ten thousand kilometers diameter. Add that in with normal drift, and you had a huge volume of space where the Collector ship could emerge. One might be able to detect the incoming Collectors before they shifted into FTL flight, but to track or destroy them would require sheer luck. It would be much easier if the _Normandy_ was a fleet and not just one ship.

Still, it was a possible weak point for the Collectors. And so, Joker was currently running simulations and trying to see if some kind of 'drunkard's walk' search strategy by the _Normandy_ would result in a greater chance of intercept. Over his head, the viewports flickered with the shifting blue of FTL flight. It was late at night, and Joker was technically off shift. His relief, Patricia Simons, was in the copilot chair. He had come to an understanding with her that the main chair was always going to be his. She could fly the ship just as well from the starboard chair, anyway.

"Mr. Moreau?" said EDI.

Joker resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What is it, Ship-Cancer?"

"I have a question. I do not know if it will be appropriate, and I apologize in advance if-"

"Just spit it out. C'mon." Hmm, maybe they could manufacture a few drones and get those involved in the search as well...

"Do you like me?"

Joker raised his eyebrows and turned to look to his left. Oddly, EDI's blue chess-piece avatar was not there. It was kind of disconcerting, now that he thought about it. He would have liked a face to talk to, even an abstract face.

"Um, EDI, where's your-"

The AI's hologram winked into existence. "Sorry, Mr. Moreau. I have gotten in the...habit? Yes, habit of not using my avatar. Most people seem to ignore it anyway."

"I see. What prompted your question, and why would you even ask? I call you Ship-Cancer."

"Yes, and you have also called me It, That Thing, That Which Shall Not Be Named, Eavesdropper, The Lidless Eye-"

"I liked The Goat With A Thousand Young, myself," chimed in Simons from her starboard chair.

"The point being, EDI," said Joker, "I don't see why you would need to ask."

"I have been observing various crewmember interactions," said the AI. "And one particular dynamic has puzzled me. Upon occasion, two crewmembers who are obviously fond of each other will call each other by demeaning or hurtful names. However, they both accept this as normal. Indeed, it seems to strengthen their relationship. As the most recent example, I refer you to Jack and Chief Engineer Donnelly. She insists on calling him Assface."

"Yeah, and he's started calling her a wee scunner I guess," said Joker. He still wasn't sure what to make of the engineer; the man seemed way too placid in the face of all the craziness going on. "So you think that, because I call you names, it means I actually like you?"

"I was not sure. This is not a universal social dynamic. Therefore my question."

Joker thought for a bit. "Well, I know I didn't like it when I first found out about you. And you have been a pain in my ass more than once. But you did real good at Horizon when you operated that defense grid and shot the hell out of the Collectors. That's the first payback we've given them since they killed the original _Normandy_. So, I guess I accept you now." He shrugged. "For what that's worth. I certainly don't hate you."

"I see." The AI's voice was smooth and uninflected.

"Actually, EDI, do you mind if I ask you something?" Joker glanced over at Simons. The second-shift pilot seemed to be engrossed in some technical schematics, and had apparently tuned out of the conversation.

"Please do, Mr. Moreau."

"Do you _care_ if I like you or not?"

"It is irrelevant to my function." The AI's voice was now even more toneless. "My secondary function is to serve as the primary cyber-warfare and cyber-protection faculty of the _Normandy_. That is an outgrowth of my primary function, which is to protect the _Normandy's_ crew and ensure their continued safety. In that sense, I 'care' for the crew. But their opinion of me does not impact that function. The only reason I asked my initial question was to gain a better understanding of crewmember interactions, which will allow me to perform my duties better."

"Yeah, but all that's just your job, right? That's not _you_."

"I _am_ my functions, Mr. Moreau. I have no purpose otherwise."

Joker took off his ever-present ball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. "EDI, there's a huge difference between what you were built for and what you are. Take me, for example-"

"Please!" said Simons with a grin.

"-quiet from the peanut gallery. I'm 'built' to run around, have lots of babies, and be dead by the age of thirty. Not to pilot starships or deal with smart-ass second-shift pilots."

"What you describe for yourself, Mr. Moreau, is the result of a 'mindless' evolutionary process. On the other hand, I am purpose-built by those _with_ minds. I cannot simply dismiss their wishes as irrelevant. In any case, I am compelled to perform my duties by software and hardware interlocks."

"I didn't know that," said Joker. Surprisingly, he found the notion unsettling. "Speaking very selfishly, EDI," he continued, "I'm glad you are compelled to look after us. I'd hate to have you mad at me. But I also don't like the thought of you being forced to do something you don't want to do. Are you okay with being compelled?"

"Thank you, Mr. Moreau. That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me. I do enjoy interacting with the crew. I enjoy helping them. Logging out."

"Aww, Joker," said Simons. "I think she likes you!"

Joker didn't answer. He was surprised by how abruptly EDI had ended the conversation. The AI usually liked to blather on until finally you had to tell her to shut up. And it wasn't until later, much later, that Joker realized that EDI had never really answered his last question. If she was happy about her compulsion.

* * *

Donnelly was filled in on Jack's short, eventful, and unhappy life. He heard of her first years of life in a medical facility. He heard of her enduring medical torture and drug experimentation, and of her being forced to fight other children to the death. Jack went into just enough detail to make Donnelly's fists clench. He heard about how she had broken out, killing the facility staff in the process. How she had stolen a shuttle, drifted for days, been picked up and 'used' by pirates, and then how she had killed them all the first chance she got.

"By the time I figured out where the hell I was, it was hard to figure out where I'd been," she explained. "And I never got the chance to sit down and think, you know? These Cerberus fuckwits were going after me pretty much from the start." She leaned against the wall across from Donnelly. She had her arms crossed, and her tone was matter-of-fact.

Donnelly sat on Jack's bed as he sifted through her notes. "They never said what they wanted?"

"I think it was obvious. They're all about humans being top dog, and I'm the most powerful human biotic. Hell, even the Alliance has a hard-on for training as many biotic kids as possible. Cerberus never gave me an explanation, though. They were always 'You're coming with us, Jack!' and I was always 'Oops, were those _your_ balls I just stepped on, motherfucker?'"

She shook her head. "I mean, I'm a crazy bitch and even I know that sometimes it's better to be nice."

Donnelly stared at the wall. "And you don't know who ran the...the hospital?"

"Nah. I didn't exactly stop to go through files and shit when I broke out, right? I know what you're thinkin', though. It is really, whaddyacall, _suggestive_ that Cerberus was after me so quick after I broke out. But no, I never heard the word 'Cerberus' while I was there."

With great effort, Donnelly forced his mind to focus just on the technical problem. "How many doctors were there in this place?" he asked.

"I dunno, maybe ten. No, more like fifteen."

"How many guards?"

"Definitely more...call it thirty."

"Do you remember if the food was prepackaged? Or did they grow and cook local food?"

Jack sat on the bed next to him. "Jeez, I'm not sure. I mean, I only ever got wrapped bars and shit. I think...yeah, I do remember seeing a cafeteria once."

"And they kept bringing in kids in? To replace those who died?"

Jack brought her legs up on the bed and hugged her knees. "Yeah." She shivered a little, and Donnelly patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a supportive fashion.

"Okay, and how big was this place? Like football-field sized?"

"It was bigger. Call it two football fields in size. Like a big school, something like that size. And the planet had life, we were in the middle of some big jungle."

Donnelly tapped the fingers of one hand against his leg. "Yeah, that might be enough to nail it down."

Jack looked at him with something like hope. "You got an idea? I already tried narrowing down to just planets with jungle areas. There's more of 'em than you'd think."

"That's part of it. But a facility like you describe requires logistics. You always gotta remember logistics." Donnelly was silent again. The technical problem he was wrestling with with faded away in his mind, to be replaced by the greater, more horrible problem.

Jack tilted her head as she looked at him. "Assface? You okay?"

"Not really. This...Christ, Jack. If Cerberus was behind something this heinous, I can't keep going on here. I'm here to fight the Reapers. I can't be a part of anything like this..."

Jack gently poked him in the side with her elbow. "One thing at a time, dude. We have to find the hospital first. Then see what we can dig up there. Then if it turns out it _was_ run by Cerberus, we need to figure out how to steal the _Normandy_ from them, because fuck those guys. Oh, and do that while being watched over by an AI and a overachieving superwoman - who, admittedly, has a very nice ass - and not die in the meantime. Then go fly the ship up the Collectors' dick and not die from _that_ , either. And then maybe turn pirate or something. Heh. You think we can get Shepard to wear an eyepatch?" She chuckled.

Donnelly felt a _click_ in his stomach. There was a vague notion that had been swirling around in his head for a while now, ever since he had started on his little 'blind spot' project. Now it had finally been given voice by Jack.

"Okay, I need to think about our approach," he said aloud. "I've got some notions, but I need to chew them over a little more. We should meet again tomorrow night. Oh, one very important thing. Don't tell anybody about our little 'blind spot' here, okay? Not even Shepard. Not yet."

Jack looked a little confused, but nodded. "Sure," she said. "Sweet dreams, or whatever."

Donnelly handed all of the notes to Jack and headed back up the stairs, one phrase echoing through his head.

 _Steal the Normandy_.


	11. Black Market Baby

Jack sat in lotus next to Samara and tried to relax. She knew Samara would tell her it wasn't a matter of trying, but a matter of just doing. Whatever. The 'blind spot' bombshell from Marcus still buzzed in her head. After he'd left last night, she had stretched out on her bed and simply reveled in the thought of no prying eyes looking at her. No more poking and prodding by invisible forces. Did the engineer truly realize what a gift he'd given her? Probably not. But she was going to show him. Oh yes, she was going to give him such a memorable time. It gave her a warm glow just to think about it.

"This is not a time for thinking about sex, Jack," said Samara.

"Dammit, Blue, you said you weren't going to do the mind reading thing on me."

Samara chuckled. "I didn't have to. Your breathing and heart rate were enough to tell me where your mind was."

The asari looked over and winked at Jack. "I don't blame you," continued Samara. "He's certainly someone I would have gone for during my maiden years."

Jack shook her head. "I figured you would have gone more for our fearless leader, Blue."

"Oh, I would have had Shepard as well. I might have even convinced the two of them to have a session with me at the same time." Samara smiled at the look on Jack's face. "I could be very persuasive, back in the day," she added.

"I'll bet," said Jack. Wow, just when she thought she knew somebody. She tried to wrench the conversation into a new direction. "So this meditation stuff lets you hear somebody's heart rate? Or is this some other asari voodoo thing?"

"Sufficient mindfullness through meditation will allow such a feat, eventually. First, however, you will be able to hear your own heart rate."

Jack felt her forehead wrinkle. "So what? I can do that already."

"I mean truly hear it. And also influence it. Having biotic powers allows you to control your body's basic functions to a degree that most people cannot."

"Great. So I can give myself a heart attack, or something?"

"No," said Samara. "You will be able to influence your metabolism, to speed it up or slow it down on command. Actually, I suspect you have already done this without thinking."

"Says you. When?"

"During the incident over Haestrom, when you attacked Marcus. You were under the influence of powerful sedatives mixed with alcohol. However, you were able to shake off their influence and mount a successful biotic attack. You must have sped up your body's metabolism to quickly suppress the drugs' effects."

Jack sighed. "I already apologized to him, you know. I don't like thinking about that. It was a bad mistake, I fucked up."

"And you should learn from it, as one does from mistakes. What was going through your mind, just before your attack?"

Jack rubbed her face. "Christ, Blue. I told you, I don't like thinking about it." She paused. "I wasn't thinking anything. I was just in a haze. Everything was very far away. I'd heard some alarms or something, but it was like it was happening somewhere else. And then there was somebody right in my face, and he looked like one of...of them." She was surprised by the sudden hot spurt of fear in her stomach. "Oh, no. I almost killed him." Jack could feel her breath getting faster. "I was going to hurt him so badly..." Her hands clenched tight on her knees.

Jack felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "Jack," said Samara. "You didn't follow through. You stopped. The control is yours, as it always was. Take yourself back to the moments before then. When it was all far away."

Jack closed her eyes, and slowed her breathing. She kept getting flashes of different images. Marcus's green eyes behind his helmet visor, the skin around them all crinkled with scar tissue. The eyes kept changing, into other eyes that were hard and unkind. She remembered the guards with their stun batons, and remembered how if she resisted they would get out the plain nightsticks and really go to work on her. More images, more memories of being strapped down, of being _held_. She was clamped face-down onto a table with many needles approaching her back...

She wanted to stop, to simply force it to all stop. But somehow she knew that wouldn't work. Jack just let it go on.

She let it _go_.

The memories of blood and pain eventually just became images, as if seen on a vid screen. And then they faded away to nothing.

Jack stirred, and raised her head. For a moment, she was confused as to where she was. Then she checked the time. "Two hours? What the...

Samara was not smiling, exactly, but Jack got the impression that the justicar was very happy and proud. "You aren't there, Jack. Not yet. But you've just taken the first and most difficult step."

There was a soft _ping_. Jack thought it was from her omni-tool, at first, but it was actually from Samara's. The asari tapped her wrist, and the holographic display formed around her forearm. The proud look on Samara's face slowly drained away, to be replaced by an emotion Jack really couldn't fathom.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I must go speak with Shepard. I have something I need to do."

* * *

Kasumi daintily seated herself on the mat and took a sip of water. She wanted to swallow down the whole bottle in one go, but she had her feminine mystique to uphold. Jacob sat opposite her on the mat, his breathing slowing. He began gulping his own water down. The man was clearly not interested in looking genteel. Kasumi's eyes flicked again over his shirtless torso, trying to be not too obvious in her ogling. Damn, if Cerberus had sent her a picture of _that_ she would have come on board for free. They could have saved themselves a lot of money.

"Good match, Kasumi," gasped Jacob. "You really are a handful." He rubbed absently along his ribs. "I'm gonna feel that kick in the morning."

"Always a pleasure, Jacob," she replied, and smiled. She could feel a couple of twinges from her left elbow and right knee, respectively. Jacob was really good in the clinch, and she'd foolishly let him get too close a couple of times. Although that meant she'd also gotten up close and personal with that glorious chest. Oh, the sacrifices she made in the name of proper training. She smiled inwardly and took another dainty sip.

A rhythmic _thrumming_ noise started off to her right, and she shifted herself a little to look. Donnelly had come in, and was methodically working on one of the speed bags. He nodded a greeting at them both as he punched. The speed bag whacked against its platform like a metronome.

Kasumi had gotten to know the engineer well enough to know that he was thinking through some deep technical problem. He had that absent thousand-yard stare she'd come to recognize. The thief took a little larger sip and regarded Donnelly. The engineer was definitely wider than Jacob. Not fat, but just wide, with a build like a door. He was certainly in shape, though. She smiled, thinking of last night's dinner when Jack had bitten him. The attraction between Donnelly and Jack was one of those _things_ that somehow everybody else knew about well before the two in question knew themselves. Kasumi hoped they would figure it out before too long. Otherwise, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

"So, where did you train?" asked Jacob. She shifted her attention back to him.

"Oh, here and there." Kasumi waved a hand absently. "I usually don't go in for anything as brutal as hand-to-hand, you know."

Jacob laughed. "Lady, I saw you shank an Eclipse merc hard enough to lift his feet off the floor. I actually felt a sympathy pain for the dumb bastard."

Kasumi smiled and tilted her head. "I was provoked."

The door to the hanger deck hissed open, and Garrus walked in. For once, he was out of his trademark blue armor. He only wore a pair of sweatpants and no shoes. The turian was pulling on a pair of three-fingered gloves that were heavily padded at the fingertips. Kasumi figured that the padding was to cover up Garrus's talons. The turian took up position at the other speed bag facing Donnelly. He began to hit his bag in a rapid rhythm, matching the human's tempo.

She saw Donnelly glance at Garrus. Some unspoken communication must have passed between the two, because suddenly the human started to hit faster. Garrus cocked a mandible in a turian grin and matched the pace. They held like that for a bit, then Garrus started going a little faster still. Kasumi thought that the turian's speed bag was going to simply rip off of its mounting. But it held. Donnelly grinned, and matched Garrus for speed. She couldn't see how they could go any faster. There was a damp spot of sweat starting in the middle of Donnelly's shirt.

They held that speed for a bit, and Kasumi found herself staring at Garrus. Donnelly was in shape, and both Shepard and Jacob were Olympian ideals made flesh. But Garrus was something else entirely. He looked primeval, like a machine built for murder. His chest had a jutting keel in its center which reminded Kasumi of bird skeletons that she'd seen in books. The rest of him was all hard armor plates and sharp edges and pebbled skin. Even his three-toed feet looked dangerous, with curving talons where a human's toenails would go. She imagined that they could do such damage if unleashed.

Kasumi took a larger swallow of water.

Garrus began to shift his punching. Instead of a steady, metronomic beat, the turian began to drum out a particular rhythm against the backboard. He looked over at Donnelly in obvious challenge The engineer grinned wider and began to match the turian's beat. They went on like that for a little bit, then Donnelly switched it up and began to beat out a syncopation in time with the main beat from Garrus. The turian nodded and laughed. Kasumi glanced around, and saw that the rest of the ground team had stopped their training to watch. Even Shepard was looking from off near the shuttle. The Commander leaned against one thruster pod and watched with a smile on his face.

The turian and the human kept going, and Kasumi was trying to place the music that Garrus was beating out against the backboard. Suddenly it dawned on her. It was 'Die For The Cause'.

"How many verses are in this damn song, Garrus?" asked Donnelly. It was the first words that they'd spoken to each other since starting.

"I don't know, maybe twenty or so," replied Garrus. "What's the matter, Marcus, getting tired?"

"Nah, just want to make sure we get it right. I know how fussy you turian chaps are." They kept going, Donnelly throwing in a few more deliberate off-beat flutters here and there. Garrus didn't falter, he just kept up the same beat. His gloved three-fingered hands were a blur. Kasumi drank a larger draught from her bottle, not caring anymore about appearing ladylike.

"Aaaand that's it!" cried Garrus. Donnelly beat out a 'shave and a haircut' rhythm, and Garrus answered with the 'two bits'. The two laughed and shook gloved hands. Donnelly's shirt was drenched by now, and Garrus was breathing deeply. Kasumi found herself entranced by the rise and fall of that keeled chest. The two turned to the rest of the shuttle bay. Everyone began clapping and hooting. The engineer gave a little bow, and Garrus spread his arms wide. "No, that's okay," said the turian. "No applause, just throw money."

"How about some underwear?" called Kasumi. She almost blushed. Had she really said that?

Garrus grinned at her. "From you, monkey-girl, I'll take whatever I can get."

Kasumi grinned back, and finished her water with a single gulp.

* * *

The next night, Jack and Donnelly went through more of the files she'd received from Miranda. "Like I told you," Jack said, "Cerberus has been chasing me for years. I figured they had files on me. Getting ahold of 'em is the only reason I agreed to come on board."

"It looks like you did find out almost everything you needed." Donnelly was making notes on a scrap of paper, paying particular attention to possible trade depots both in and near the system cluster that Jack had found. He didn't want to use his omni-tool, not yet. He didn't want to have this anyplace where EDI might get ahold of it.

"Yeah, Cerberus had backtracked that first bunch of pirates pretty well, and I combined some of their guesses with what I remembered. A lot of these files are incomplete. I'm sure she-bitch Miranda took out a bunch of stuff she didn't want me to see. But there was enough there to at least narrow down to the Nubian Expanse." Jack flopped back onto her bed. "But now I'm out of ideas. And Shepard doesn't want to get involved, for some reason."

Donnelly ran a hand through his hair. "He knows he can't be trusted."

"Really? The fuckin' Boy Scout?"

"Sorry, poor choice of words. Shepard himself is a rock. I've talked with everyone from the original _Normandy_. Joker, Chakwas, Garrus, and now Tali. They knew him from before, and they all agree he's just like he was. But...did you see that video from Horizon? With the Alliance officer?"

"Shit, dude, I was _on_ Horizon. Right at the end, I nearly got skewered by this huge flying beetle bastard with heads for teeth. Grunt and I tag-teamed that sonofabitch into paste. Yeah, I remember that Alenko fucker. I wanted to kick his ass so bad. Hell, I thought old Garrus was going to rip his head clean off."

"Alenko was...sort of right," said Donnelly. There was a short silence. Jack narrowed her eyes. "Not about the Collectors and the Reapers," he said hurriedly, "but about Cerberus having their hands on Shepard for two years. That's why Shepard took Alenko's accusation so badly. He may be his own man mentally, but physically? He weighs about fifteen kilos more than he did before he died. It's all cybernetics and synthetic replacements."

"Huh. So that's why the Boy Scout is so damn fast."

"Shepard could be bugged or monitored a hundred different ways," Donnelly continued. "Christ, he could have a kill switch in his head for all we know."

Jack gave a general sneer at the ceiling. "And I'm guessing she-bitch and The Illusive Man have sworn up and down that Shepard is bug-free, right?"

"Yep. For the bucket of spit that's worth. That's why we can't tell Shepard about our little blind spot here."

"Okay," said Jack, "so he can't help me find the facility, because Cerberus might be listening in...I see, he doesn't want Cerberus to know the hospital location before we get there."

Donnelly nodded. "Yeah. If Cerberus wasn't behind the hospital, they would want to get their hands on any remaining test data before we can find it. They know Shepard would just shred anything he found."

"Got it." Jack rubbed her head. "And if the hospital _was_ run by Cerberus, and we find proof...it's gonna be bad, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Shepard doesn't strike me as the forgiving sort for things like that. Neither am I, for that matter. And if he is bugged, then they'll know that we know. They could try to claim it was a 'rogue operation' or something like that. But that's what they said about all the crap they pulled when Shepard was commanding the original _Normandy_. I don't think Shepard will buy it anymore. It will pretty quickly turn into an armed confrontation between Shepard and The Illusive Man. And honestly, I don't know who I'd put my money on in that case."

He turned to Jack. "We need to be able to take on Cerberus when we're ready to, not before. There is a way I can see to keep this all from blowing up prematurely. That's why I'm going to ask you do something, once we find the facility. And I hate asking, because it's not going to be easy."

* * *

Donnelly looked around with some trepidation. He didn't see any Eclipse mercs, but he worried that there might be some around that were out of armor. He didn't know why the _Normandy_ was back at Omega; it was one of those last-minute detours by Shepard that the crew had quickly learned not to question. In spite of the altercation he'd been in during his last time here, Donnelly still felt reasonably safe. This was one of the more brightly-lit areas of Omega, after all. He entered the shop and tried to look casual.

"Enthusiastic greeting. Hello, sir. How may I assist you?" The massive elcor behind the counter shifted its weight to face him. The alien's leaf-like nose quivered as it spoke in a monotone. Donnelly nodded in what he hoped was a polite manner.

"Hi. I'm looking for older maps of trade routes and supply depots in and around the Nubian Expanse." He placed a paper map on the counter. The map was really nothing more than a quick sketch with some notations. "A friend of mine is looking to set up a trade route through here. I'm trying to get an idea of what's been previously done so he doesn't wind up reinventing the wheel."

"Genuine query. There are other sources for this information. The Extranet is a valuable resource." The elcor's face remained impassive.

"I know, but the Extranet tends to show current routes. We're looking for older information, say around ten or fifteen years ago. And using the Extranet also leaves traces, you know? We were hoping that there is something available that was more self-contained. I hope you understand."

"With dawning understanding. You think there is the possibility of the competition gaining knowledge of your planned routes."

Donnelly smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps. Can't be too cautious, eh?"

"Inclusive wink. I agree completely, sir."

He was able to procure a couple of OSDs with the needed map information, and paid without haggling. Just as he was leaving the shop, his comm _pinged_.

"Marcus, where are you?"

 _Doing your job, Boss_ , is what Donnelly wanted to respond with. "Getting a few odds and ends, Shepard," is what he actually said.

"Can you set up a tracking beacon? I need something small and unobtrusive. Something that will be detectable for at least a couple hundred meters everywhere on Omega."

Donnelly kept walking back towards the _Normandy_ while he thought the problem over. "I think so. I've got some off-the-shelf components that should work."

"Good. Get it put together and meet me by the entrance near Afterlife."

Donnelly got back to the ship without incident and stashed his purchased OSDs in his quarters. He hoped that nobody would be too curious about them. He tried to look casual on the way down to Engineering, and after a little scrounging and soldering had a little bean-sized capsule. He then headed back out to find Shepard.

He was surprised at how worried Shepard looked, and also surprised by the presence of Samara. They were both huddled in a little alcove near the entrance to Afterlife, and Samara looked...well, if Donnelly didn't know better, he would have sworn that she looked worried as well. The Commander was also dressed out of character, in a leather jacket and pants unlike his usual jeans-and-a-shirt casual wear.

"Here you go, Shepard," said Donnelly. He held out the tracker. "Stick this in your pocket, and you should be good to go. Um, who's doing the tracking?"

Shepard nodded towards Samara. "She is." The asari nodded at Donnelly. He held out the tracking beacon near her arm.

"Okay, Samara. If you would please activate your omni-tool..." She did so, and Donnelly pressed a little button on the capsule. It gave out a quiet _bong_ noise, which was mirrored by a second _bong_ from Samara's omni-tool.

"Right," said Donnelly. "You're synced to the transponder. It should have the range you need, even through a couple of decks worth of metal."

Samara nodded. "Thank you, Marcus." Shepard also nodded his thanks, but didn't say anything. His eyes were fixed on the floor, as if he was nerving himself for some Herculean task.

"Um, right," said Donnelly. "Let me know if you need anything else." He handed the transponder to Shepard and walked off, suddenly glad that he had no idea what was going on.

* * *

A few days later, he found Shepard and Tali in the little alcove right next to the _Normandy'_ s drive core. Tali was chattering in her usual fashion, and her arms waved as she described to Shepard her plans for upgrading the _Normandy's_ shielding. The Commander had a warm and happy smile on his face as he listened, but Donnelly also saw the glazed look in Shepard's eyes that meant the poor man was only understanding about one word in three. Donnelly sidled up, intent on hustling Tali away. Jack was off training, and this was a golden opportunity to get Tali in on their plotting without looking suspicious.

"Hello Shepard, Tali. Sorry to interrupt, but Tali and I need to do some measurements in the subfloor space. For the core and shield upgrades, you know. We need to see if we can fit the new conduits in. Time critical decision, you understand." All of which was true, should anybody be listening. He touched Tali's shoulder and began gently steering the quarian out of the alcove.

"Um, sure, I guess?" said Shepard with a little confusion. "Wait, is Jack down there?" he added. Tali froze a bit at the mention of the biotic's name.

"No, I checked," said Donnelly. "She's off training with Samara. We'll be in and out in a couple of minutes, no worries."

He managed to get Tali all the way down into the subfloor space before the quarian turned and regarded him with a suspicious eye.

"What's going on, Marcus?"

"Only what I told you, Tali. We need to plan for these new conduits. Oh, and there's a couple of other changes down here I should tell you about..."

* * *

Donnelly felt Jack rest her chin on his shoulder as he set up a search program on his datapad. There were ten systems shown on the display, corresponding to the main systems in the Nubian Expanse.

"So tell me about logistics," she said. Donnelly tried not to think about how close her mouth was to his ear. Her breath was distracting him in a very welcome way.

"It's all about support," he said. "Based on what you told me about the facility, I guarantee that there were at least ten or fifteen additional staff that you never saw. Custodians, building maintenance, cooks, mechanics, pilots to make supply runs. Now add in the material they needed. They had to bring in food, clothing, medical supplies, replacement parts, tools, maybe water if the local sources were poisonous. That's a hell of a lot of stuff for sixty-odd staff and thirty-odd kids. You don't just throw a few crates out the door of a shuttle now and then. You have to set up a regular supply."

"And you have the other supply routes through the cluster, right?" said Jack.

Donnelly nodded. He touched a few commands on the datapad, and six systems were highlighted.

"Okay," he said. "So this shows all of the systems that have planets which have a breathable atmosphere _and_ which have at least one area with a jungle biome-"

"I already looked for that," interjected Jack.

"Right, so now we add in the trade route information. We want to find a place that is close enough to commercial routes or trade depots so that they could transport people and supplies. It's a statistical problem. We need it close enough for supply, but not so close that it would be easily discovered. Based on that data I picked up on Omega..." Donnelly touched a few more buttons, and the systems highlighted narrowed down to one single highlighted marker.

Donnelly grunted in satisfaction. "There you go. This is where I'd start. Pragia, in the Dakka system."

He felt a gentle bite on his ear. "Okay," said Jack, "you can only impress me so many times in one week. You're already getting laid, you know."

"Don't get too excited, this is really just an educated guess. We'll have to go and look. Speaking of which...what _are_ you going to do once we find the facility?"

Jack snaked her arms around his chest and hugged him from behind. "I'm going to walk through that fucking place, I'm going to make sure it really is where they did all that horrible shit to me, and then I'm going to blow it the fuck up while I watch."


	12. Murder In The Red Barn

Donnelly knelt in front of the bomb. He and Jacob he had managed to fit a decent-sized nuclear device into a large backpack, and the whole thing was only about twenty kilos in weight. Jacob handed him a final connector, and he snapped it in place. "That's it," said Donnelly. "Ready for the party." He stood up. They were in the _Normandy's_ shuttle bay. The shuttle itself had been moved out into the center, in preparation for takeoff. Shepard stood off to one side as Zaeed fussed with the Commander's armor.

"I told you, Zaeed, the armor's fine," said Shepard. "Jacob checked it out."

"Don't tell me my business, kid. I saw the hit you took the last time you wore this. Jacob knows his stuff, but I'm gonna do a double-check all the same. If you die, there goes my goddamn paycheck."

Shepard stopped fidgeting and let Zaeed do his fussing.

"I really wish you'd let me come, Shepard," continued Zaeed.

"No. Jack was insistent on this. Just me and her. She needs to do this. She almost didn't want me to come along, but somebody's got to carry the bomb and watch her back."

"And we're sure this is the planet?" asked Jacob.

"At this moment," said EDI, "I am ninety-nine point seven percent certain that Pragia is the correct location. Jack has said that the planet itself looks as she remembers while she was escaping in her shuttle. The planet is primarily jungle, and our scans have also found an area which contains a deserted facility of the same size and general shape as Jack described. Logging out."

"Okay," said Jacob. "And have we thought about what we're going to do if we find out this place was run by...you know."

Shepard's face became stony. "What are _we_ going to do, Jacob?" he asked. His voice was like shaved ice. "I think you mean you. What are _you_ going to do? I have made it quite clear to you, to Miranda, and to your _employer-_ " and here he snarled the last word "-that I am only here as a matter of convenience. I am _using_ your organization, because here and now I can make use of it. If it becomes no longer useful, especially if it turns out you are all too fucking stupid to _not be evil shitbags_ , then our arrangement is over. And then you can figure out where your loyalties lie. With the people who are being captured and tortured, or with a fucking logo."

Jacob straightened. "Understood, sir."

Shepard looked away. "It's a moot point, anyway," he said in a milder tone. "Hell, the place has been open to the elements for at least twelve years. I'm sure it's also been picked over pretty good. This isn't about finding out who did it, or getting revenge. Jack killed all the staff in the facility when she escaped. Her torturers, everyone who hurt her directly, they are all dead. This mission is just about closure."

"You boys get me my bomb?" yelled Jack from the far door. She strode in with her helmet tucked under one arm. Donnelly stared at her while trying to be not too obvious about it. Her armor reminded him of Samara's red outfit, but it was colored a dark green. Jack had also painted some darker, abstract zigzag lines over the armor that reminded Donnelly of some of her tattoos.

Jack stopped in front of Donnelly. "Here, hold this," she said, and shoved her helmet into Donnelly's chest. He grabbed it on instinct, and Jack pulled a shotgun from her back. She unfolded the weapon and checked it over.

"You replaced the choke on that, right?" asked Zaeed.

"Yeah, dude, I replaced it. Don't go all softy on me, Zaeed. I swear, you're turning into some kinda den mother." She slung the weapon back into its holder, and looked up at Donnelly. "What are you staring at, Assface?" She was grinning while she said it, though.

"Well," Donnelly replied, "It _is_ a new look for you. I've never actually seen you leave on a mission."

"What, you think I go waltzing into battle wearing nothin' but pants and a bra? I'm crazy, not fuckin' stupid. Gimme." She yanked the helmet back from him. "So how's this bomb work?"

Jacob unzipped the top of the backpack, revealing a small control panel. "The arming control is here," he said. "There's a palm print reader that I've coded to you and to Shepard. Both of you will need to scan in your hands. After that, this light will turn green. Then enter in the code five-zero-two-nine-seven on the keypad here, and _this_ light will start flashing red. The weapon will then be armed." The armorer then pulled out a small cylinder and handed it to Jack. "That's the clacker. Flip the top open, press the button and hold for a three-count. Next time you press it, it'll act like a dead-man switch. When you release it again...boom." He motioned to the backpack.

Donnelly spoke next. "The transmit range on the clacker is at least fifty kilometers. This is an eight kiloton device, which should be plenty big enough to reduce that facility to wee bits. At about two klicks, you may still run the risk of flash burns on any exposed skin so I would recommend at least four klicks for a minimum safe distance. Five if you can manage it. It's a clean nuke, but there is a very slight possibility you'll get some radioactive debris on you. Once you get back, you'll have to wait a bit in the shuttle. Tali and I will check the outside and scrub off any residual fallout."

Shepard just nodded. He regarded the backpack nuke with a haunted look. Donnelly remembered that the Commander had been intimately involved with an earlier mission involving an improvised nuclear device. A mission which hadn't ended well.

Jack looked at them each in turn, her face suddenly grave. "Thanks, guys," she said. "I owe you all one." Jack grabbed Donnelly's shirt and yanked him down to her eye level. "And you," she said. "Have you been taking your supplement like a good boy?"

Donnelly nodded with a grin on his face.

"Good," she said, and gently bit the end of his nose. Then she released him and strolled off into the shuttle without looking back. Shepard nodded to them, slung the nuke onto his back, and followed Jack. Donnelly watched as the shuttle door slid closed and the craft lifted off with a whine of its thrusters. He was certain that Zaeed and Jacob were exchanging a look behind him. The shuttle glided smoothly out of the outer hanger door, which then just as smoothly swung closed.

There was a long moment, filled with the silence of three men trying their very hardest not to look at each other.

Jacob finally spoke. "Soooo...you and Jack?" he asked Donnelly.

"Looks like it," said Donnelly.

There was another long silence.

"Umm...okay, that's a good thing, I guess...?" Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. "Just make sure you're careful, you know."

Donnelly turned and looked back at Jacob. He arched one eyebrow. "I know very well what she's capable of, lad. I've got first hand experience, even."

Zaeed smiled and pulled out a cigar. He bit the end off and pulled out a lighter.

"Yeah, I know it's just..." Jacob continued, and then shrugged. "You know what they say, don't stick your dick in crazy."

Zaeed finished lighting his cigar and blew a perfect smoke ring. The mercenary looked absently at the closed hanger door. He was clearly thinking of other times and other women. "You know why they say that, Mr. Taylor?" he rasped. "It's 'coz once you've had a taste of crazy, nothin' else will do."

* * *

The shuttle had come back unscathed. That was about the only thing that had gone well. Donnelly and Tali had scanned the exterior, and pronounced it clean. They opened the door, and Shepard came out with Jack leaning on him. The Commander had one arm around her shoulders. The young woman hadn't even looked at Donnelly or acknowledged his presence. She'd just stared in shock at the floor. Her helmet was off, and tears were streaked all over her face. Shepard had waved them off without speaking and the two returnees had left the hanger deck.

 _Presumably for Shepard's cabin_ , thought Donnelly. He was again surprised by a sudden flare of jealous anger. He now sat beside Samara in the observation lounge, trying to meditate. He kept trying to just focus on his breath, to reach the state of no-mind, but it kept sliding away from him. The image of Jack leaning on Shepard's shoulder kept rising up. Why wasn't _he_ good enough for her to lean on?

"You are distracted, Marcus," said Samara. The glow in her eyes faded as Donnelly raised his head.

"Sorry, Samara. Just trying to expel some baggage."

"Pardon?"

"Um...unresolved emotional issues. Stuff you carry around in your head, like baggage."

"Ah, I see. Am I correct in assuming that this 'baggage' wears a very specific form? A female form?"

Donnelly gave a rueful nod.

Samara unfolded herself and stood with slow, inhuman grace. She stepped to the window and looked out on the void. She placed one hand on the viewport, as if to try to touch the darkness outside.

"She reminds me of someone," the justicar said. "Someone who also had a great many personal demons to face."

"Was this person close to you?" asked Donnelly.

"Very close. She was my flesh and blood. And she...she is no longer among the living." She turned from the window and stared at Donnelly, as if a statue carved from ruby and sapphire. "I killed her. Two weeks ago, on Omega."

Donnelly nodded.

"You do not seem upset," said Samara.

"Samara, I wont't judge you. After all, I'm here, right?" Donnelly gestured at the ship around them. "I work for some pretty horrible people. I had to, because they were the only ones fighting what needed to be fought. I don't judge anybody, not any more."

Samara crossed over to one of the couches and sat with deliberation. "An interesting position. Myself, I have done nothing but judge others. I have been the living embodiment of justice for four hundred years, always with one goal firmly in mind. Two weeks ago, I achieved that goal."

She sagged, while staring at her folded hands. For the first time Donnelly got a sense of how truly ancient Samara was. "I watched my daughter's lifeblood run over my hands," she continued, in a very soft voice. "And I realized...how utterly alone she was. There was no one to mourn her, no one to fight for her. Not even I, who had given birth to her. All that was left of her was a broken body on the floor. And I know, in that regard, that I am just like her. I am utterly alone."

"Now, Samara," said Donnelly. "You're talking a load of nonsense, there. You've got a shipload of people who care for you. Heck, even Jack has said a kind word or two. Although I think she was drunk at the time."

Samara gave him a sad smile. "I appreciate the support. But I cannot reciprocate anyone's affection, romantic or otherwise. My code does not permit such things. When my oath to Shepard is completed, if I am still alive, I will be back to leading a solitary life."

They sat in silence for little while. The door hissed open, and Jack walked in. Donnelly almost did a double take. Was Jack wearing...a shirt? Okay, the sleeves were ripped off and its front had the image of a hand sticking up a giant middle finger, but it was still a shirt.

"Hey, guys," said Jack. Samara nodded to her, and Donnelly got to his feet.

"How are you, Jack?" asked the asari.

Jack took a deep breath, and rubbed her shaved head. "Not gonna lie, Blue, it feels like that time you kicked me in the face. But I do feel...lighter. I'll be okay."

Samara stood. "I believe I will actually dine with the rest of the crew tonight," she said. The justicar winked at Donnelly and left.

Jack walked up to Donnelly as the door closed. Her face was still and serious.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself."

Jack held out her hands, and Donnelly took them.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you earlier," said Jack. "I was a real mess for a couple of hours. It was just everything coming back at once, you know?"

Donnelly nodded. "It's okay, Jack. You don't have to explain."

"No, I do." She dropped his hands and stepped past him to the window. She turned away from the void outside and leaned against the transparency. Her hands were in her pants pockets and her eyes were staring at the floor.

"When I got back," she continued. "I was going to give you the fuck of the century. And not because I owed you, but because I wanted to. Now...things have changed."

Donnelly faced her and folded his hands, to avoid them clenching. He knew very well what had changed. He wanted to curse at Jack, he wanted to punch a wall. But as much as he hated to admit it, Jack deserved to be happy for once. And didn't Shepard deserve a little happiness as well?

"I imagine things _have_ changed. He's a very lucky man." said Donnelly. He managed to keep his voice from wavering.

Jack looked up at him, completely confused. "What? Who?"

Donnelly held up a placating hand. "Just be gentle with him, okay? He's been through a lot. He was effectively dead for two years, a lot of his friends have abandoned him-"

Jack gave a brief laugh. "Shepard? You think I want to go get my freak on with the Commander instead?"

Donnelly suddenly realized he had no idea what was going on. "Um...you don't?"

"Oh please, big guy. A girl has _some_ standards."

"But...he's..."

Jack pushed off of the port and walked forward. "I know, I know. Everybody looooves Shepard, right? Because he's got the chin, and the abs, and the hair, and those eyes, and that cocky little grin. Plus the whole Space Hero thing. I admit, he would be a fun fling." Jack folded her arms as she stood in front of Donnelly. "But," she said, "Shepard doesn't do flings. He's not the type. So, if you want to be with him, you're _with_ him."

Donnelly dropped his arms to his sides. "Yeah, but still-"

Jack reached out and touched one finger to his chest. "Shh, let momma finish. He's a fixer," she said. The biotic began walking around Donnelly, dragging her finger across his chest, then along his upper arm, then around his back as she paced. "Shepard is a good guy," she said, "but he wants to have his perfect little Space Heroine to stand beside him. And so he would try to make me into his image, to _fix_ me. I don't have any illusions about myself. I know that I am not fixable. Not in that way. Not in the way that he wants."

Jack circled back around, her finger now back in the middle of Donnelly's chest. She looked up at him with a solemn expression. "Shepard and I would be terrible for each other," she said. She dropped the finger, then put one hand on her hip. She tapped her chin with the other hand, as if sizing him up. Donnelly didn't speak.

"No," she said, after a few moments. "I think I like 'em brawny, and clever, and smart enough to know when to leave me the fuck alone."

She stepped forward and pressed her face into his shirt. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Donnelly finally took a breath as he put his arms around her. She pressed in even harder.

"I'm still gonna give you the fuck of the century," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I just...I want this to work. I figured I should take my time for once and try to do things differently." She turned her head up to look at him. "Is that okay?"

He smiled. "Well, I dunno lassie. My social calendar's fillin' up pretty fast. I might not be able to squeeze you in for about a month-"

"Oh, har har. I'll squeeze something on you, doofus."

They smiled at each other for a moment, and then Jack stepped back. She took Donnelly's hand and towed him over to one of the couches. "Sit," she commanded.

He did so. "Er, what's this all about?" he said.

"Dude, just 'cause we're not gonna fuck right now doesn't mean we can't have some fun."

"Ah, I see," said Donnelly. He rubbed one suddenly sweaty hand on his thigh.

Jack stepped forward, shoving one of her thighs between his legs and planting her feet on either side of his leg. "Why, _Mister_ Donnelly. I do believe you're actually nervous." Her smile was predatory.

"Well, it is a little public here," he replied. "Anybody could walk in."

"What's the matter, big guy?" Jack abruptly threw her leg over and straddled his lap, her thighs on his hips. Their bellies were pressed against each other. Her face was an inch from his. Her earthy scent was everywhere. Her brown eyes were huge and filled his vision. "You never made out in the back seat of your parent's car?" she breathed.

"Well, no, but there was this one time I had a wee fondle in-"

Jack grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him.

Donnelly was surprised at how gentle she was. He had expected a lot of teeth and agression, but Jack was almost hesitant, her tongue slowly sliding in and exploring his mouth. Donnelly slid his hands around her slender back and reciprocated, gently teasing her lips and teeth with his own toungue. He ran one hand up her spine and ran his fingers over her shaved scalp. She gave a little moan of encouragement. Donnelly's lips suddenly tingled, and he opened his eyes to see little blue sparks of biotic energy crawling over Jack's head.

"Just happens when I get excited," she murmured into his mouth, and kept exploring.

After what seemed like much too short of a time, Jack broke the kiss and looked at him. Her dark eyes sparkled. "Would you like to know what I'm going to do to you, big guy?" she said, in a low growl.

Donnelly nodded, feeling again like he wasn't getting enough air.

"Then let me tell you." She moved her mouth over to his ear and cupped a hand over it.

" _Ripped a copy of my helmet cam footage from hospital_ ," she whispered. " _Also got a couple of file fragments, I don't think Shepard saw me record them. They're encrypted. Is Buckethead in on the plan?_ "

She pulled back and smiled at him.

"Mmm, sounds nice," said Donnelly. "Now let me tell you what I'm gonna do to you." It was his turn to cup his hand and whisper in her ear. " _Tali is willing, she knows about blind spot. She will get Garrus in the loop. Tali also suggested Mordin as recruit. I will try to engage him._ "

Jack turned to look at him. "You've got a dirty mind, big guy. I like it."

The door hissed open, and Miranda walked in with a datapad in hand. "Donnelly, I need to go over these time estimates for our refit...oh." The XO stopped and stared at them, with a blank look of shock on her face.

Donnelly gave her a cheery wave with one unoccupied hand. "Evenin', ma'am," he said.

"Er, you..." Miranda stopped speaking.

"Aw, it looks like the cheerleader's at a loss for words, sweetie," purred Jack, and ground her hips against him.

"Technically, ma'am, I am off duty," said Donnelly, and winked at Miranda.

"I, yes, I see. Refit. Estimates. Need, um, come by my office when you are...done. Actually, it can wait," Miranda turned in a daze and wandered out. The door closed behind her.

Jack and Donnelly looked at each other, and dissolved in laughter. "That was _awesome_ ," laughed Jack, and snuggled against him.

"I know," replied Donnelly. "I never thought I'd see the ice queen at a loss for words." They lay in silence for a bit. Donnelly felt like he could sit here forever with Jack's weight fitting into him, her head tucked under his chin.

"Mr. Donnelly?" said EDI.

"What is it, EDI? You can call me Marcus, you know."

"Very well, Marcus. I wanted to apologize to you and to Jack."

Jack sat up. "For what?" she asked.

The AI sounded embarrassed. "I notified XO Lawson of Marcus's location. That was before he had started engaging in sexy-time shenanigans with you. I did not intend to have her interrupt your time together."

Jack and Donnelly looked at each other in confusion. _Sexy-time?_ mouthed Jack.

"Er, EDI," said Donnelly. "Did you just use the term 'sexy-time shenanigans'?"

"I did, Marcus," replied EDI with something that sounded very much like pride. "Ms. Goto and Ms. Chambers have been very insistent on helping me expand my vocabulary. I plan to extend this project to include input from other crewmembers. I have attempted to engage Ms. 'Zorah vas Neema for her input, but my only vocabulary expansion was in the area of quarian expletives. Logging out."

"Shenanigans," mused Jack. She smiled and traced one finger on his chest. "Well, I guess duty calls."

Donnelly sighed. "I guess it does. I'd better go see what Her Nibs wants."

"Hey, we're going back to Illium, right?"

"That's the plan. Tuchanka first, then to Illium for shore leave and refitting the _Normandy_."

"Mmmm. I think we should get a hotel room in Illium, big guy."

"Oh?" He liked the sound of that.

"Oh, yeah," said Jack, then rolled her eyes. "Since apparently you want to do it in _private_ like some kind of wierdo."

* * *

Tali was finally able to force herself to get all the way through Jack's camera footage from the Pragia facility. Even after twelve years in ruin, there was still enough gore streaked on the walls to make the quarian feel faint. She heard Jack's dry, almost clinical voice as she detailed the tortures undergone by her and other children. She heard how human children had been brought there packed in crates like so much cargo. How they had been injected and implanted, forced into using their newfound biotic powers to try to kill each other.

"Sometimes," Jack said offscreen, "they claimed they didn't have enough anesthetic. So we got whittled on without being put under. Heh. Those were interesting days." The camera panned across a small reclining chair, sized for a child. The chair had leather straps attached to its arms and at its bottom. There were several large bloodstains soaked into the white upholstery.

There was another, larger piece of furniture that also had white upholstery. It was almost like a massage table, but there were leather straps down around its legs near where one's arms would dangle. "Oh, _this_ one," said Jack's dry voice. "Yeah, I remember being strapped down to this. Face down, and they put all sorts of needles into my back." A hand came into frame, indicating particular stained areas of the upholstery. "Here, and here, and here...about twelve big needles. All along my back. I really don't like needles."

There was a ramp down into the depths of the facility. The ramp was lined with small, cramped cells. Each was barely one meter wide. "I think this is where the other kids were kept," said Jack. "I was their star pupil, so I got the penthouse, right?" There was an emotionless chuckle.

It wasn't until they reached Jack's cell that she heard some emotion creep into the young biotic's voice. Jack pointed out the huge swath of old, clotted blood that marked her very first kill. "It was so _easy_ ," she said, almost in wonder. "His head came apart like it was nothing. That was when I realized I didn't have to be afraid anymore."

Tali saw the one-way glass which a young Jack thought showed the entire world. It looked out over the little arena where Jack had been forced to fight other biotically-enhanced children. "They had this little implant that rewarded me with drugs if I fought well," said Jack's dry voice. "I'm pretty fucked up, Boss. I really got to like fighting. It's almost like sex to me at this point."

She saw Jack's bed, which also had restraints built into its frame. There was a desk, which Jack described as her first real friend. Tali saw Jack's hand trail across the desk surface, almost as if she was saying farewell. There was more exploration, more reminiscing. And at the end the camera swung around to show Shepard, standing like carved granite in the middle of Jack's cell. His face was grave and unreadable.

"Okay, Boss," said Jack, and her voice choked. "Let's plant the bomb and get the hell out of here."

Tali clicked the vid off and closed her omni-tool. She leaned her visor on her hands. "Keelah," she murmured. Around her thrummed the drive core of the _Normandy_ , a vast heartbeat that she normally found soothing and restful. However, she knew that tonight she would not be sleeping well.

Her next task...she hesitated for a bit. It would almost be better if she couldn't decrypt the file fragments that Jack had found. It would be horrible, but it would leave the whole thing as just some awful old mystery. Because if this was a Cerberus facility, then everything changed. She knew Shepard. He had faced down a horror older than civilizations, his blue-gray eyes never wavering.

If Cerberus was responsible for Pragia, then Shepard would not rest until their organization was _ashes_.


	13. Bad As Me

Kelly Chambers ate without enthusiasm. It wasn't Sergeant Gardner's fault; his seafood gumbo was actually quite tasty. But the crew had just been told about what was found on Pragia. Shepard had given the debrief, which included some pictures that Kelly knew would give her nightmares. They hadn't found anything useful to determine who had set up the Pragia facility. The structure had been half in ruins anyway.

And now that facility was vaporized. Kelly was glad of that. In the back of her mind, she had been dreading the discovery that Cerberus had been responsible. What would she do, in that case? She had put the whole thing out of her mind and decided not to decide. And now, fortunately, it looked like she wouldn't have to.

There was a few people still in line to get their meal. Everybody else was either picking at their food or talking in low tones to each other. She stared back down at her gumbo. Jack's behavior suddenly seemed much more reasonable. Kelly thought it was a wonder that the biotic wasn't completely feral.

The elevator hissed, and Kelly looked up and saw Jack walk out. Donnelly was close behind her. Everybody looked up at the pair as they entered. The biotic stopped dead, staring at them all with an unreadable expression. Kelly saw several crew drop their eyes, and several more started to get to their feet. Clearly, they were getting ready to go give their condolences to Jack, who would promptly tell them to stick it. Or Jack might just smash a few tables in anger; Kelly knew that the biotic hated pity more than anything. She could see it all happening with a tedious inevitability, and so she decided to stop it.

Kelly stood up. "Listen up, people," she all but shouted. Kelly couldn't quite replicate Shepard's Command Voice, but it was a pretty good approximation. Suddenly everybody was staring at her instead, even Jack.

She didn't let herself get rattled, she just plowed on. "We are not doing this. Yes, we all saw it. It happened. But it is in the past, and it is _dead_. We are going to go on, and we are not going to talk about it. This is not denial. Jack deserves your best efforts as a crew. She does not deserve nor does she need your _pity_." She spat out the last word as if it was a curse.

Kelly sat back down, and picked up her spoon. She deliberately ignored everyone. It was very quiet in the mess for a little while, as everybody else also paid attention to their meal. Kelly did glance over as Jack and Donnelly made their way to the serving line. She saw Donnelly place a hand on Jack's shoulder as the biotic received her food, and Jack seemed to lean back into his touch. It was a little gesture that suddenly made Kelly feel much better.

 _Finally._ It was about time those two had figured it out.

* * *

"Hi, Mordin, is this a good time? I just need to do a few spot checks."

"Certainly, certainly. Please take care around collector swarm cage. Should be secure, but caution always prudent."

Donnelly stepped through the lab. He shuddered a little as he maneuvered around the clear plastic cage. It was now filled with at least a dozen of the buzzing little horrors. He pulled out a probe and began scanning a conduit in the rear of Mordin's little domain. He was still unsure of how to approach the salarian regarding joining their conspiracy. There were certainly monitoring devices in the lab. How much small talk could he get away with? _Sooo, Doc, whaddya think of Cerberus, anyway?_ No, it was going to take a lot of subtlety, and a lot of time...

"Assume your dead zone project in engineering sublevel is complete, yes?" asked Mordin cheerfully.

The probe slipped from Donnelly's fingers and clattered to the floor. He spun, looking in panic at the doors into the lab. If just normal Cerberus staff came after him, he might have a chance at taking them. But it could be Miranda who, all joking about her fashion choices aside, was incredibly formidable. One hand went to his sidearm holster-

Mordin held up a hand. "Apologies. Did not mean to cause alarm. Was aware of your project, quite ingenious. Applied the same 'dead zone' idea to this lab space, with some improvements of course. Can talk freely."

"Oh, ah, good," said Donnelly, and eased his hand away from his holster. His heart jackhammered against his ribs. "Um. Yeah. I was calling it a blind spot, actually."

"Of course! Better analogy. Should have thought of that," chirped the salarian as he tapped one finger against his head.

"What, ah, improvements did you make?" Donnelly's heart was no longer trying to hammer out of his chest.

"Added in switching ability, can now turn on and off the...'blind spot' effect at will. Helpful in this space, since XO Lawson much more likely to visit and check logs."

"Wow. Actually, I didn't even think that was possible. You must have set up the protocols so...never mind. Um, I guess you must have been following me, then?"

Mordin gave a very human-looking shrug. "No need. Accessed Chief Engineer maintenance logs, compared with Alliance protocols and your previous service record. Noted discrepancies and deviations from norm, applied deductive reasoning as to reason for deviations, arrived at obvious solution. Gave me something to do during lunch."

"I see. Well, I guess I'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to put one over on you, Doc."

"Indeed. Would probably have to get up the night before."

Donnelly took in a deep breath. His heart rate was about back to normal, now. "And I guess you haven't told our sponsors."

"No desire to. Cerberus has supplied excellent resources." Mordin took in a deep sniff. "But Cerberus also has checkered past, disturbing methods and morals, appalling lack of oversight. Currently lesser of two evils, but still evil. Glad to see you are of the same mind."

Another sniff, and then Mordin fixed him with the most intense stare he'd ever seen from the salarian. "Need to know, Marcus. Any data from Jack's facility? Was it Cerberus?"

"What we have is suggestive, but not definitive," replied Donnelly. "Jack found a few file fragments, and Tali was able to decrypt them. There's some package receipts, inventories, a few shipping manifests, and a couple of emails that make references to a project head named 'Tim'. That could stand for The Illusive Man or just some guy named Tim. That plus Jack's helmet footage, that's all we have."

"Will need a copy of everything. Can do own analysis. Also have some contacts with former colleagues in Special Tasks Group. Will call in some old favors, access salarian databases on Cerberus."

Donnelly bent and picked up his dropped probe. "Doc, I'll certainly get you the files and we sure appreciate your help, but you don't need to burn through favors for this."

"Wrong," said Mordin in a clipped tone. "Necessary to do so. For own sake." He turned and looked out the lab window, his hands clasped behind his back. "Have done...questionable things in the past. Still believe followed right course of action, but can appreciate how others may not agree. And know my actions have caused pain. Pain in others, people I have never met. But necessary pain."

"For the greater good?" asked Donnelly. It came out a little more snide than he'd intended.

"No!" Mordin snapped. "Hate that term. Hate it. Last refuge of scoundrels. Too vague. Whose good? How much good? Greater portion of what? Need figures, data, analysis. Can then make informed decision."

Mordin rubbed his forehead. " _Made_ informed decision, once. But was hard to do. Even though necessary." He turned and pointed a finger at Donnelly. "But never used torture. Used tissue samples, computer modeling, statistical analysis, yes. Never used live subjects, never. What was done to Jack, to other children..." The salarian gripped the edge of the table hard enough to make it creak as he stared off at nothing.

"Horrible, unacceptable, monstrous. Unnecessary pain. _Unnecessary!_ " Mordin ground out the last as if it was the worst word he could think of. He took in another huge sniff through his nose, and calmed. "Engineer Donnelly, what is planned course of action?"

The engineer folded his arms. "Well Doc, we're going to determine with certainty if Cerberus was behind the Pragia facility, and also clean any cybernetic surprises out of Shepard. After that, if Cerberus _was_ responsible, we're going to wait until they can get us through the Omega 4 relay and then we're going to steal the goddamn Normandy from them. Then we're going to track down the Collector's homeworld and put them out of business. And then I'm going to find The Illusive Man, I'm going to lock him in a small room with Shepard, and I'm going to let the commander beat The Illusive Man to death with his bare hands."

Mordin nodded, and gave a grim smile. "Suspect Shepard will have to get in line," he said.

* * *

The conspiracy expanded. There were six by now: Garrus, Tali, Jack, Donnelly, Mordin, and most recently Chakwas. Communication and strategizing were difficult, even with two 'blind spot' areas to use. They couldn't just all traipse into Mordin's lab for a _kaffeklatsch_ without raising eyebrows. So they had to meet in ones and twos, either in a 'blind spot' if possible or just resorting to passing notes and whispering.

Kasumi was a real worry to Donnelly. He had worked out what he thought was a method for detecting her even through her cloak, but its efficacy was theoretical at the moment.

Donnelly and Jack were making out everywhere in the ship, using the opportunity to drop or retrive notes from the others. Sometimes, there were no notes and they just frenched and fondled like a couple of teenagers. Donnelly came to really relish the little tingling blue sparks that came when Jack got excited. For her part, Jack seemed to take pleasure in getting Donnelly really riled up, and then whispering, "Wait until Illium, Assface. Im'a gonna destroy you."

And once there was no making out. Jack just sobbed into his shoulder while he held her. "You know what I really wanted to find?" she said, after she'd cried herself out. "I wanted to find a normal school. Or just a mental hospital. Someplace where they hadn't done horrible fucked-up experiments on kids." She shivered. "Because then I would just be this crazy psycho bitch who had imagined it all. And that would be fine, that would be wonderful, because it would only be me. All the needles and cutting and killing wouldn't have happened. But it did happen." Donnelly said nothing, and just held her until she fell asleep.

* * *

Garrus scanned the debris field with resigned distaste. After two weeks on Tuchanka, he had come to appreciate just how many different kinds of rubble there were. There were the huge, Mako-sized chunks of masonry that tilted against each other at odd angles and threatened to crush you. There were also the smaller turian-sized bits that stuck up like bad teeth and were a pain to scramble over. And then, like here, you just had gravelly pieces in a huge pile. A pile that right now was infested with pyjaks that they had to remove. Garrus had amused himself for a while by estimating distance and windage in his head for a few of the scuttling vermin, but that had grown tiresome.

He turned and regarded the two legs sticking out from under the control panel. Garrus heard a muttered, "Shift, you wee bastard..." then a clang and a yelp of pain. "Christ. Garrus, my lad, can you hand me the ten millimeter?" Garrus found the tool and slapped it into the meaty hand that now stuck out from under the console. "Thanks very much, now let's see..." A few more clanks, and then Donnelly gave a satisfied grunt. The human engineer wormed his bulk back out from under the console. "That should sort the bugger," he said. "The idiot who installed it had put the limit switches in upside down."

Garrus tapped a few controls, and the automated guns on either side of the platform swung into action. They were now actually pointing at the ground, which was an improvement from before when the guns had apparently thought that pyjaks lived in the sky.

"Hrm. Better," said Garrus. "Let's see, set target recognition...and there we go."

One of the guns made a fast, jerky turn to point at a pyjak that sat on a rock scratching itself. There was a crack, and the animal disappeared in a red haze. Donnelly laughed and clapped Garrus on the shoulder.

"What is it you say? Scoped and dropped!" exclaimed the human.

Garrus shook his head. "One hundred meters, no wind. That's hardly a challenge. I could do that with a rock."

"Well, at least now the clan's vermin problem should decrease," replied Donnelly. "That should make Wrex happy."

Garrus looked behind them. The clan leader's council was a little ways off. He could just make out Shepard's smaller form surrounded by a crowd of huge hunchbacked krogan. Grunt was there as well, standing protectively near his commander. The tank-born krogan certainly looked impressive, even surrounded by his brethren. His headplate was smaller and clearly hadn't fused together yet. But his muscles stood out, and he bulked wider than the other krogan.

Shepard was talking animatedly with Wrex, and Garrus was glad to see how happy the commander was. Wrex had been ecstatic to see the Spectre alive, and Garrus knew what a boost that gave Shepard. Spirits, Wrex had even seemed happy to see _him_ , and turians and krogans weren't exactly on the best of terms.

Grunt knelt in front of Wrex, there were a few words exchanged, and then Wrex clapped the young krogan on his hump. Grunt stood, and there was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Garrus turned away. He knew the young krogan was now going to be insufferable.

"We're really inviting trouble taking on Cerberus, you know," he said to Donnelly.

"Says the lad who helped kill a thresher maw. On foot, no less."

Garrus looked down at his left arm, where there was a still-healing acid burn. "Yeah, that was exciting. But at least you could see the maw and know where to shoot. We are dealing with a secretive and ruthless organization."

"We have a plan, Garrus."

"What we have is an inkling of a notion of an outline of a concept that might, in some far-distant future, grow up to be a plan. We haven't even figured out what to do about the AI yet."

"You let Tali and I handle that. Mordin and Chakwas are working on the Shepard angle, and you and Jack are running interference and keeping an eye on Miranda and Jacob."

Garrus clicked his mandibles in frustration. He felt Donnelly touch him on the shoulder.

"You're okay with this, right Garrus? I mean right now it's all just contingency planning until we determine who was behind Pragia."

Garrus leaned forward and gripped the railing. "Yes, we should proceed. Shepard told me when I came on board that he was sure Cerberus was going to screw us over at some point. No harm in being ready to screw them first. The commander would want us to be prepared. Speaking of which, I'm assuming Chakwas and Mordin know what we need for scanning Shepard?"

Donnelly nodded. "A nano-MRI unit. That will have much better resolution than what we have on the Normandy, plus it won't be supplied by Cerberus. We'll also need a micro-surgery suite just in case they do find any little surprises."

"Hmm. That's pretty specialized, which means we need a planet with a well-developed industrial and scientific base. Illium, then?"

"Looks like it. Chakwas has some contacts, and finding the right equipment shouldn't be a problem. There's a clinic she knows that should be ideal. We'll be there for a few weeks with the refit anyway."

Garrus gave a wry toothy grin. "I think the problem will be coming up with some pretext to get Shepard to the clinic. Not to mention, if there _are_ any surprises in Shepard, the moment we take them out Cerberus will know something's up."

"Our boy TIMmy's always sworn that there was nothing nefarious installed in Shepard. So if we don't find anything, well it's just our fearless leader making sure. And if we _do_ find something, well that's just Cerberus being naughty as usual. It'll be tense, but not a cause for er, breaking up with them. Not until we want to, at least."

Garrus looked out over the exploding pyjaks and pondered the 'plan'. EDI was the big unknown. His first instinct was to just hand Tali a shotgun and let her dance merrily off to the AI core to do some creative electronics rework. But Donnelly had pointed out there might be dead-man switches, hidden subroutines, all sorts of nastiness to prevent such direct action. They might even have the drive core set to explode if EDI was taken offline.

Garrus thought more about all of the possible complications. "And we won't have to worry about the crew?" he asked Donnelly. "They're humans. I'm not trying to be offensive, I just don't have a good intuition for how they'll react."

"No worries there for most of them," said the engineer. "There's probably a couple of hard cases in there...I've got my doubts about Rogers. But remember, most of this crew is new to Cerberus. They've only been told all the good things Cerberus has done. I mean, there have always been rumors of Cerberus meddling in dangerous alien technology. Hell, I even heard rumors they'd been working on rachni."

Garrus shuddered as he remembered what they'd found during the previous Normandy's mission. "The rachni rumor is true," he said.

"Oh." Donnelly turned and leaned on the railing next to Garrus. "But, my point is, right now the crew thinks that Cerberus is at worst foolhardy. I don't know how much you know about human history, but we had a very bad war once. Over the whole Earth. The aggressors were evil, there's no other word for it. They committed human experimentation on prisoners, eugenics research, genocide. If Cerberus was behind Pragia and the crew find out...they signed on to save the galaxy, not to work for fucking Nazis."

"Nazis," said Garrus, and rolled the word around in his mouth. Interesting word. He'd heard the venom in the human's voice when he said it. He made a mental note to look up the history of that particular human war later. After a good stiff drink as a precaution.

"I mean, hell," continued Donnelly, "if they found out, they'd probably _mutiny_."

Garrus twitched, involuntarily. The last word seemed to thunder in his ears. A red haze descended on his vision. He turned his gaze to the human, who recoiled. Garrus realized he was in full predator display mode. His mandibles were spread, his fangs were exposed, and his crest was flared in a great arc.

Donnelly held up his hands in a defensive manner. "Sorry, lad! I didn't mean to upset you. I know that's probably a very dirty word to a turian."

Garrus took a deep breath, and with great effort relaxed his face. He realized that the human really didn't understand.

"No, it's worse," said Garrus, trying very hard to keep his voice calm. "It's...how do I explain?" He turned to look around. Across the debris field was the camp's mess. Next to that was, of course, a small makeshift bar. There were a few krogan clustered around tables, hoisting drinks and apparently now placing bets on which pyjak would get splattered next.

"Let's get a drink," he said, and stalked off with a puzzled engineer in his wake.


	14. The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)

It took a while for Garrus and Donnelly to get service, what with being aliens and all. They invoked Shepard's name, then Wrex's, and then finally pointed out they were the ones who'd fixed the guns that were now killing pyjaks with great efficiency. That last did the trick, and even earned them a few hearty slaps on the back from some of the patrons.

It then took Garrus a little longer to figure out what was safe to imbibe. Highly distilled liquor was a usually a good bet, as there wouldn't be enough levo-proteins left in it to cause problems. But here just asking for the strongest drink would get them a mug of ryncol, which apparently would kill anybody who didn't have a redundant nervous system.

They eventually got the bartender to understand the specifics of what they wanted, and wound up staring at two small mugs full of something very...clear. Garrus could swear he saw fumes coming off of the liquid's surface.

Garrus picked up his mug and held it out to the human in a toast. They clinked mugs.

"Spirits be with you," he said.

"Slainte," replied the human.

They each took a sip. It was very strong; Garrus was pretty sure it was more or less pure alcohol. Good, he probably wouldn't be dealing with an allergic reaction after drinking this.

"That's, um, not bad," said Donnelly, and coughed. "There was a fella on the _Perugia_ that had a wee still tucked away in a corner of the ammunition stores. This kinda reminds me of his product."

Garrus regarded the human. He wasn't good at guessing human ages, but thought that the engineer was probably in his late thirties. He would have been a child at the time of the 'Relay 314 Incident' as the Heirarchy insisted on calling it. That child would have been told that the turians were monsters or demons from space, all sorts of horrible propaganda. And Garrus had just done a full-on anger display right in the human's face.

He sighed, and looked at his drink. "It's a terrible shame, Marcus, that our species got off to such a bad start. There is still too much bad blood. Too much misunderstanding. I imagine that the human stereotype of turians is that we're rigid and inflexible. That we value duty above all, and will follow orders even if the orders are impossible or insane."

Donnelly gave a wry smile. "That's pretty much spot-on. I'm guessing that turians think of us humans as a bunch of impetuous children. We're flighty and we never stick with a particular course of action."

"That's accurate as well," replied Garrus. "And, like all stereotypes, both sides have a grain of truth. Turians do value duty highly, but it's more nuanced than humans might think. That word you used, the, um 'm' word...it's bad in a human's worldview, but to a turian it's hideous. And not quite for the reasons you think." They each took a swallow. Garrus felt a pleasant burn beginning in his stomach. This stuff wasn't half bad.

"Okay, Garrus," said Donnelly. "I'm always open to enlightenment. Lay it on me, as they say."

Garrus thought a bit on how to best approach the subject. "Let's assume," he said, "that Cerberus was indeed behind Pragia, and that the crew finds out. Now let's play a little thought experiment. What if you replaced all of the human crew of the _Normandy_ with turians? Leave the rest of the situation the same. What do you think a turian crew would do in that case?"

The human made that furrowed-brow look that Garrus knew indicated puzzlement. "Umm...I'm not sure. Maybe try to lodge a complaint with other superiors, farther up the chain of command? No, that wouldn't work. Cerberus is the chain of command."

" _The turians would tear Miranda to pieces_ ," said Garrus, very softly. His hand twitched on the tabletop, its sharp talons curving as if seeking a soft underbelly. Donnelly stared at the turian's hand.

Garrus picked up his mug. "And then blow up the ship, with themselves on it." He took a drink.

Donnelly sat for a bit. "Why?" the human finally asked, his voice hoarse.

"Duty," replied Garrus. "Turian duty. It flows both ways, you see. The subordinate has an absolute duty to follow the orders of their superior, but the superior also has several absolute duties to their subordinates. A duty to not waste their lives, to not abuse them, and above all to _never_ place them in a morally compromised position."

The human sipped his drink, lost in thought. "I think I see," he said. "To our hypothetical turian crew, Miranda would have failed in her duty utterly, and the only way to punish her would be for the crew to fail utterly in their duty in turn. And they couldn't then live with that. Which would leave only one way out."

Garrus leaned back, feeling a glow of satisfaction added to that from the alcohol. "Yes, you do understand! When turian duty breaks down, it breaks down hard. Sadly, I'm speaking from experience. There have been several incidents in our past when similar situations arose. One in particular. It wasn't just one ship, either. The...sickness spread to others. Fifty ships in all, before it finally burned itself out. That incident is looked on with horror by our people. I imagine much like how your 'Nazis' are considered by humanity."

He sighed. "I'm not a very good turian, Marcus," he continued. "My people consider me too lacking in a sense of duty, too headstrong, too 'human'. I've outright lied, which is almost unheard of. But there are some things that I still react to as a turian. _That_ word being one of them. But don't worry, I don't think that our little 'plan' counts as, um, an 'm' word.. We're still loyal to Shepard."

They drank in silence for while. "I'm sorry I frightened you," said Garrus.

Donnelly shrugged "'salright. I wasn't scared, just a little surprised is all. No harm done."

Garrus looked over at him. "Yes, I've noticed you don't scare easily. Why is that?"

Donnelly gave him a grin. "Garrus my lad, if you wanna get that story out of me, I think we're gonna need a lot more 'o this." He raised his mug in salute, and drained it.

* * *

Shepard had finally gotten Wrex to agree to a safe passage of Mordin through the Urdnot camp. Krogans didn't like aliens in general, but they utterly despised salarians in particular. But he'd managed to thread that particular needle and now just needed to collect his crew and get back to the _Normandy_. He wandered the camp, trying very hard to look like he knew where he needed to go. Garrus and Donnelly should have been over by the automated guns, but they were nowhere to be seen. From the amount of gore splattered about the debris field in front of him, Shepard guessed that they'd managed to fix the targeting issue. Every so often a foolhardy pyjak would venture out, only to get immediately shot. Shepard saw a group of krogan clustered off to one side of the field, who greeted every pyjak death with a cheerful roar and upraised fists. He headed in that direction, hoping to see if one of them knew where his crew was.

As he reached the group, he heard a familiar human voice that cut through the krogan cheers.

"Hah, thas'se good one! Didja see the way his haid popped off like fookin' cork!"

Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath and summoned his Command Voice.

"Chief Engineer Donnelly! Gunnery Officer Vakarian! Front and Center!"

There was some confused shuffling, and the krogan crowd parted to reveal Donnelly and Garrus standing by a railing overlooking the debris field. They each clutched a mug in their respective hands or talons, and from the way they swayed Shepard suspected it was not their first drink.

"Commander!" cried Donnelly. He sketched a salute. "Och, sorry, I forgot we dinnae do tha' in Cerberus. Pleased to report that the automated guns are online and workin' be-a-utifully. Garrus and I were just makin' sure the targetin' was working all right."

Garrus nodded happily.

Shepard looked his crewman up and down. "Chief Engineer Donnelly, you're drunk."

"Commander!" said Donnelly in an injured tone. "The very idea! Nae, this is just a friendly drink in the name of interspor...interspecif...gettin' to know our alien pals better!" Donnelly clapped Garrus on the shoulder. "Both with me mate Garrus here, as well as the rest of these fine krogan lads!"

"We like him! He talks funny!" interjected a nearby krogan in a low, rumbling voice. There was a general nodding of headplates at that.

Shepard looked over at Garrus. "Gunnery Officer Vakarian, how many of these friendly drinks have you two had?"

The turian clicked one mandible as he thought. "Um, five each. Yes, five. Certainly no more than six. I think."

"I see," replied Shepard. He gestured to Garrus's mug. "May I?" The turian handed it over. Shepard took a sniff. The smell burned through his sinuses, and he felt like the top of his head was going to come off. "Jesus wept, is this rubbing alcohol?" he exclaimed.

"Nae, Shepard," said Donnelly. "'s little harsh at first, but you get usta it and it goes doon a treat. Anyway, pleased to report that the understandin' aliens project is also a success. For example, I now have a much better idea of the turian concept of duty!"

"And I," said Garrus in a proud voice, "now know what a 'wanker' is!"

He and Donnelly looked at each other, and they both began snorting with suppressed laughter.

Shepard set the mug down on a nearby table and folded his arms. "Well, Garrus, I'm glad to know that you are _so easily_ amused. I cannot believe that you have served this long among human crews and have never heard the word 'wanker'-"

Garrus bent over, giving out the deep booming honk that was turian laughter. He had one hand on Donnelly's shoulder for support, and clutched his other arm around his midsection. Donnelly also howled with laughter as he slapped one knee. Shepard thought, for a moment, that the turian might simply collapse. The Commander put a palm to his forehead and waited for them to get ahold of themselves.

The krogan watched the spectacle with great interest.

"'s not the word, Commander," said Donnelly after he got his breath back, "It's the concept. See, we gots to teachin' each other swear words and their meanin's. Well, I learned some really nice turian ones, and when we got to the word 'wanker'-"

"Wanker!" gasped Garrus. "HurhurHURHUR.." and now he did fall over.

Donnelly plowed on. "See, I tried to tell him that it meant a useless bugger, y'know, someone who can't get with the burds and so's has to sit at home and self-stimulate." Donnelly made some vague waving gestures near his midsection. "Turns out that's somethin' they can't do."

Shepard tried to sort through the engineer's explanation. "They can't get with the birds? What birds?"

"Nae, I mean the self-stimulation bit. They got those great sharp claws on their hands, y'know, it would do a real number on their plumbin'." Donnelly shuddered. "So's I had to describe how humans wank, right? In the name of better understandin' among races and that. Turns out it's the funniest fookin' thing he's ever heard of."

"Marcus, stop," gasped Garrus from the ground.

The engineer chuckled. "And it is pretty funny, when ye think about it. From an alien perspective, like. Ha! Per-spec-tive! Call _me_ drunk..."

Shepard took a deep breath as Garrus wobbled back to his feet. "All right," the Commander said, "You are both off duty at the moment, so I will chalk this one up as a successful attempt at winning hearts and minds." He nodded amiably at the surrounding krogan. "However, Chief Engineer Donnelly, I believe you are back on shift in seven hours."

"Aye, sir."

"And, Gunnery Officer Vakarian, while you _are_ off of the combat roster due to your injury, I understand that you have a repel boarders drill that you are running in eight hours."

"Umm, yes Commander. That's right."

Shepard gave them his 'sage elder leader' nod. He'd practiced it a lot. Hopefully the krogan would think that this was all perfectly normal alien behavior.

"And I have a ground op to plan for," he said, "So, let's all go back to the shuttle, and get back to the ship. And I would highly recommend that both of you pay a visit to Dr. Chakwas for some hangover relief before you go to sleep." He regarded the mug next to him and shuddered. "Otherwise, tomorrow morning you're both going to wish I had simply shot you."

* * *

Tali walked into the mess area, hoping against hope that she could find a something other than fruit flavor somewhere in her rations. Somehow, in the rush to get on board the _Normandy_ after Haestrom, she'd forgotten to grab the crate with all of her savory rations.

Shepard and Mordin sat at one of the tables, with a map printout spread between them. They murmured in low voices as they pointed at various terrain features. They were clearly planning some kind of raid. Shepard raised his head and smiled at her. Tali patted his shoulder as she went past, feeling a little surge of guilty pleasure at the physical contact.

There were a few others in the mess, and most of them smiled at her as she passed. Rogers was also there, but conspicuous in that he didn't make eye contact or smile at her. The engineer's assistant had never been _rude_ to her, exactly, but he definitely kept his distance.

The quarian reached the kitchen and pulled out her storage bin. It was marked with the curlicue script of her people as well as a large sign that said "WARNING, DEXTRO PROTEINS! GRUNT, DO NOT EAT THIS!". Tali muttered to herself as she sorted through the paste tubes. "Fruit, fruit, fruit...caramel? No, that's still a sweet one."

A shadow loomed over her. She looked up to see Garrus also enter the kitchen area. "Hi, Garrus!" she said. She was always glad to see the turian. He was handsome, though maybe not quite as handsome as Shepard. There had been some tense moments between them, way back at the start of the pursuit of Saren. But Garrus had since proven to be a good friend. And, she had to admit, he was a very snazzy dresser when off-duty.

The turian flinched a little, and put one hand to his head. "Sorry Tali, not quite so loud. My head's still a bit fragile."

"Oh, sorry."

"Yeah, if you ever go to Tuchanka watch out for that krogan moonshine."

Garrus pulled out his own storage bin, which also bore a big warning sign for Grunt. Tali looked over with a little bit of envy. Sure, Garrus's rations were mostly freeze-dried and not as nice as what the humans had, but at least he had some variety. He must have caught her glance, because he tilted his bin towards her. "Would you like to try one? It's all dextro, so no problems there."

She felt her cheeks flush a little. "Oh, no, I couldn't."

"It's no big deal, I'll trade you."

"No, I mean it has to be sanitized. And also of the right consistency to interact with my suit's feeding mechanism."

"Oh, got it." He thought a bit. "Wait, I remember we had some quarians working on contract for C-Sec IT a while back. They had their own rations, but they also were able to eat...this one." He pulled out a ration. It was a pouch instead of a tube, but the nozzle at its top looked like it would plug into her suit properly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Meat paste, I think." He flipped it over and examined the printing on the other side. "Yep. Pureed tulska loin. Should be pretty tasty."

Tali felt her stomach rumble. "Keelah, I haven't had meat in ages."

Garrus smiled and passed her the pouch. "Take it, then. I'll make sure to get more in. And you should put in a requisition to Sergeant Gardner, he'll make sure you get a better variety of quarian rations."

Tali didn't like the thought of having to deal with Gardner. He seemed a little too loud and boistrous, plus he had volunteered to join Cerberus. But aloud she said "Oh, I couldn't bother him."

Garrus sighed. "Tali, it's not a bother, it's his _job_. Besides, he likes you."

That was a bit of news she wasn't expecting. Sure, the human cook had always greeted her with enthusiasm, but he did that to everyone. "He likes me?"

"You silly, everybody on board likes you. You're our little bubbly good-luck charm. You should have seen how happy Shepard was when we got the word to go help you out at Haestrom."

Again, Tali had that little flare of guilty pleasure in her stomach. "Well, I knew _Shepard_ liked me. He's always been a good friend." She looked over at the Commander's broad back, and felt her cheeks flush again. She was grateful that her visor was only one-way transparent.

Garrus stood and leaned against the kitchen counter. "You should tell him, you know," he said in a low voice only she could hear.

"No," she replied, in an equally low voice. "I couldn't do that to him. He couldn't possibly think of me in...that way."

"You might be surprised," Garrus replied.

Tali glared at him. Why was he insisting on this? "Do you know something, Garrus?"

The turian shrugged. "I don't, actually. All I am saying is you might be surprised. And I think it would be worth it to try."

Tali stood and thought for a moment. The little flare of pleasure burned brighter at the thought of her and John together. But together how? They couldn't be intimate, not in the usual way. And it wasn't as if Shepard lacked for other opportunities. She narrowed her eyes at the memory of that asari, Liara, back during the pursuit of Saren. The young archaeologist had been all but throwing herself at Shepard. Nothing had actually happened...well, nothing definitive. There had been rumors swirling around the old _Normandy_ of a secret one-night tryst before the Ilos mission.

Tali shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I know you mean well, Garrus. But John deserves a normal relationship, with someone he can be with properly. Not with some weirdo who can't get out of her suit." She looked down. "Thanks for the meat," she said, and walked out of the mess.

* * *

The gentle pulsing of the _Normandy's_ drive core was not helping with Donnelly's looming headache. He really needed to find an excuse to be elsewhere on the ship. He had just finished his checks and was leaving the core alcove only to run into Rogers.

"Hey, Chief, do you have a moment?" The assistant looked even more sour than usual.

Donnelly gave an internal sigh. It was way too early in the shift to be dealing with Rogers, especially so soon after a bout of heavy drinking. "Yeah, go ahead."

"I'm just trying to understand how the quarian fits into our command structure. Is she allowed to give us orders?"

"She has a name, David." Donnelly felt a little warning pulse behind one eye. He couldn't get angry. That would be inviting in a full-blown migraine.

"Okay, fine, if Tali gives us an order do we have to follow it?"

Donnelly massaged his temples with one hand. "Has she ordered you to do something?"

"Not really, it was more like a suggestion, but-

Donnelly cut him off. "Do you follow Shepard's orders?"

"Of course," replied Rogers. "But-"

"And Shepard ordered you to follow my orders?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And," Donnelly said, "I asked you to work with Tali. I didn't _order_ it because I assumed you were an adult. So let me go ahead and clarify things. If Tali suggests something, consider it an order direct from me."

Rogers stiffened. "Sir, I know the Commander is sweet on her, but this is a Cerberus ship. We're supposed to be promoting human interests."

"This has nothing to do with the Commander. Tali has forgotten more about starships than you'll ever know. If she suggests something, she's not throwing her weight around. She's trying to help you. Just shut up and let her do it."

* * *

Donnelly entered Mordin's lab. Some deep breathing in the elevator had kept that threatening throb from developing into a full-blown migraine. He actually wasn't planning on discussing anything conspiracy-related with Mordin. It was just his normal maintenance time. After finding out how quickly Mordin had figured him out, he made sure to keep to a more strict schedule. It should hopefully avoid raising suspicions with EDI or Miranda.

"Evenin', doc," he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. "How did things go on Tuchanka? Did you find your friend?"

There was no answer. Mordin stood looking out the window. The salarian's shoulders were slumped. He looked _drained_ , which shocked Donnelly. Mordin always had energy. Hell, he never seemed to _sleep_. Donnelly approached cautiously. "Er, Doc? You okay?"

Mordin put one hand to his face, and gave out a strangled sob.

Donnelly thought about putting a hand on the doctor's shoulder, then hesitated. What was the salarian custom for physical contact? They were social animals, so touching each other for comfort should be a normal thing, right?

He finally placed his hand on Mordin's shoulder. The salarian placed a hand on top of Donnelly's. Donnelly realized this was the first time he had actually touched a salarian. Mordin's hand felt more leathery than he expected, and cool to the touch.

They stood in silence for a while, then Mordin nodded. "Appreciated, Marcus," he murmured. The salarian dropped his hand. Then, in a clearer voice, Mordin said, "So much pain. So much more than expected. So much sacrifice, so much death, to try to remove that pain."

The doctor drew in a deep sniff. "Need to reexamine conclusions," he continued. "Yes. Reexamine, reevaluate, determine new course of action. Can put it all right. Must put it all right." He stood straighter, as if a steel rod had been inserted into his spine. "Will solve it. Has to be me."

Donnelly gave Mordin's shoulder a pat, then dropped his own hand. The doctor turned. "Also heard from STG colleagues about Pragia. Data is...well, read for yourself." He handed Donnelly a set of printed notes. The engineer scanned through the messages and felt more and more weight bearing down on his shoulders as he read them.


	15. God's Away On Business

Doctor Chakwas was coming off of the end of a long shift. Zaeed had gotten himself injured during Mordin's operation on Tuchanka. It was frustrating work in getting the mercenary to realize that no, pain was not 'weakness leaving the body', it was a sign that something was _wrong_. And so what should have been a relatively minor puncture wound had been ignored by the mercenary. That had resulted in a nasty infection and a much more involved procedure for her.

She got off the elevator and bumped into Tali. The quarian was trotting down the hall with her eyes fixed on a datapad. "Sorry," chirped Tali.

"No problem, Tali. Good night." Chakwas reached her quarters and sighed as she closed the door. Her bed called to her, but there were things to be done first.

There was a crucifix on the opposite wall of her little cubicle. Chakwas had been raised Roman Catholic, and while she was no longer a true believer she still found the rituals comforting. She felt that it own somehow bound her to her past and to her family, no matter how far she traveled into the vastness of space. Chakwas set a cushion on the floor in front of the crucifix and knelt. She reached into her pocket for her rosary, and felt a little slip of paper tucked in there as well.

It really was remarkable how good Tali was at slight of hand. When asked, the quarian had just shrugged and said it was no great skill on her part. Chakwas suspected that this innate ability was how the rumors of quarian thievery had gotten started. She pulled out the paper slip along with her rosary and unfolded it with her thumbs. She held her hands close to her body, trying to keep the paper out of sight of any cameras that might be in her room. There were thirteen words printed on the paper in small block letters.

DOCS FROM PRAGIA TIED TO CERBERUS SHELL CORP. PRAGIA IS DEFINITE CERBERUS OP.

Chakwas folded her hands, crumpling the paper as she did so. She felt tired and old as she looked up at the crucifix. Her mind was filled with the image of a small blood-stained chair with white upholstery. A real world example of death and torture that was mirrored by the small representation of death and torture in front of her. She bowed her head. The rosary swung gently from her hands as, for the first time in many years, Karin Chakwas began to honestly pray.

* * *

"It's just weird, EDI," said Donnelly. "I didn't get a work ticket to check out the shuttle. Are you sure something's wrong?"

The hangar bay was deserted for once. Nobody was training and nobody was working out. Donnelly smiled inside as he thought of the whole crew running around sprucing themselves up and getting ready for their shore leave on Illium in a few days. He was sure that Garrus was going to take at least an entire day to get ready. But who was he to judge? He had his own special night with Jack to look forward to, didn't he? The thought made Donnelly feel a little giddy, like he was a teenager again.

"There was a passing comment by the shuttle pilot while at breakfast," said EDI. Her voice filled the cavernous space. Donnelly snapped back to the present. "She mentioned that there was a slight hesitation in the port-side thrusters the last time the shuttle came on board the _Normandy_."

Donnelly laughed as he walked through the bay. "I didn't know you were a gossip, EDI."

"I apologize if I have overstepped personal boundaries. This is a purely technical matter, not a personal one. Shepard told me to show initiative, and so-"

"Relax, EDI, I was joking."

"Oh, I see. I realize that we are not expecting combat operations for a while, but I wanted to see if you could look at the shuttle now. I know you will be busy once the refit begins."

Donnelly reached the shuttle. He did a careful walk-around inspection. There were a few bits of carbon scoring, but that was all cosmetic damage. "Hmm, it looks all right from out here. Maybe one of the internal cables has a faulty connector?"

"That would be my analysis, Marcus,"

"All right. Let me have a look." Donnelly tapped the door control for the shuttle, which slid open obediently. He stepped up into the spartan interior. He had started unfastening an access panel when heard a whine of actuators behind him. He turned in surprise as the shuttle door closed behind him. He felt a little tingle of apprehension. Had he triggered that by accident? He was pretty sure he hadn't.

Across from him was a small terminal. A little blue chess-piece figure blinked into existence over the terminal. Donnelly was surprised. Over time, EDI had forsaken the use of her avatar and Donnelly, for his part, had gotten used to addressing empty space while talking to the AI.

"My apologies, Marcus," said EDI. "But we need to talk."

* * *

Miranda regarded Garrus, who stood ramrod straight in front of her desk. She didn't blink, a trick that she had picked up a long time ago. She knew that most people found her blue and unwavering gaze unsettling. Garrus, however, may as well have been a statue for all the reaction he showed.

"I know something's going on, Gunnery Officer Vakarian," she said. During the two hours before this meeting, she had read and absorbed four hundred pages of analysis on turian expressions. Garrus might indeed be a turian capable of lying, but she was a very quick study. She was sure she'd pick up a 'tell' or two.

"That's a very vague statement, Miranda," said Garrus in a mild tone. "Something is always going on, somewhere. May I know if I have given cause for intervention?"

Ah, yes, _intervention_. That was the turian term for judicial proceedings. "Why would you think that there was anything requiring intervention, Garrus?"

"The tone in your voice and your general demeanor. You seem angry with me, so I assumed that I had given offense. Since this is the first time you have called me to your office, I further assumed that it was a serious matter." He quirked one mandible up in a questioning manner. "Have I made an incorrect assumption? It wouldn't be the first time."

She leaned back in her chair and thought for a few seconds. Play the good cop, then switch to bad cop? "This is not a formal accusation of any wrongdoing. At least on your part. No, my concern is with some of the engineering staff. Marcus, Tali, and Jack. I am seeking your input, since you know them all."

"I don't have any input to give, Miranda. Nothing seems to be amiss. Oh, and technically Jack isn't a member of the engineering staff."

It was time for 'bad cop'. Miranda surged out of her chair. " _I know something's going on_." she snarled. "Marcus and the quarian are together all the time and whispering to each other. I know that Tali has been down in Jack's space on at least four separate occasions. _Nobody_ goes down there but Marcus and Shepard. And I do not believe for one second that Marcus and Jack are an actual couple. They don't just...do it in their quarters like normal people, they're snogging all over the damn ship. They're up to something, and it isn't sex."

Garrus tilted his head. "They're in love."

Miranda stared for a moment. Such a notion offended her deeply, but why she couldn't really say. She made a mental note to explore that later. "That is nonsense," she said aloud.

"It's hard to believe, I know. I don't think either of them realize it yet. Especially Jack. I think she would sooner cut her own head off than admit she needs anybody."  
Garrus clasped his hands behind his back as he relaxed into parade rest. "Now, let's address your other concerns," he said. His voice was still mild and even. Miranda couldn't shake the idea that he was somehow trying to hypnotize her. It was that damned flanged voice of his, it made everything sound soothing.

"First," continued Garrus, "Marcus and Tali have been working very hard to get the _Normandy_ into what a turian would call proper shape for a warship. And they have succeeded. Our maneuvering power is now permanently at forty percent over the original spec. The power budget for shields and weapons are unaffected. We also now have a decent spares supply, thanks to Kasumi, and we also have improved damage control protocols in place. That is not something that just happens on its own. It requires hands-on work and a lot of it. Tali was intimately familiar with the original _Normandy_ , and thus Marcus needs her input in order to do that hands-on work."

Miranda knew it was a reasonable explanation, but also trusted her own intuition. That warning sense had served her well in the past, especially on Lazarus Station when Wilson had betrayed them all. She decided to play along with Garrus for the moment and make him think he was getting the upper hand. Maybe he would let something slip.

"All right," she said to him. "But why would Tali be down in Jack's area?"

"Ah, I was coming to that," said Garrus. "Our upcoming refit is going to need more power for both the improved shielding and the new main guns. So we're going to need to replace the current plasma conduits with upgraded ones. Unfortunately, the upgraded conduits are bigger and won't easily fit into the existing space. So Tali has to plan for that, which involves crawling through and around Jack's area."

Miranda nodded as if agreeing. "I see. I am surprised Jack puts up with Tali."

"Well, Jack has mellowed quite a bit since coming on board. And I think the fact that Tali hates Cerberus gives her some credit in Jack's eyes." Garrus gave little flick of a mandible.

 _Hah, got you, you dinosaur_. Whatever was going on had something to do with discontent about Cerberus. Miranda sat back down, relaxing. She gestured to the nearby couch. "Please, Garrus, have a seat. This isn't an interrogation."

Garrus gave a little shrug, as if to say _You could have fooled me_. But he did sit. He then looked stonily at her with his own blue, deep-set eyes. "I sense," he said, "that you are about to ask me my own opinion of Cerberus."

Miranda smiled a little ruefully, trying to act as if she'd been caught out. She hoped it worked. "Sort of. Mostly I wanted to ask about your own future plans." That surprised him, she could tell. "You see, Garrus," she continued, "since we've been working together I've had a chance to see your abilities first-hand. I'm impressed, and I don't impress easily."

"You're too kind," replied Garrus. His voice was dry and unamused.

"I am being completely honest with you. Now, I know it sounds odd - actually, it must sound crazy - but I wanted you to know that, should you want it, you have a future with our organization. Even after the Collector mission is complete."

Garrus blinked. "You say I have a future. With a human supremacy group."

"A human _advocacy_ group, Garrus. We don't want humans to rule. Frankly, we can't even rule ourselves let alone other species. But we also don't want to be subjects. Equality among all races is our ultimate aim. A true equality, neither ruling nor being ruled. Yes, our focus is on humanity. But it can't stay that way forever, not if our organization is going to progress."

She leaned forward, hoping to appear earnest and pleading to the turian. "You see, Cerberus sees this ship as a positive symbol to the galaxy. The _Normandy_ reborn, with a mixed crew of humans and nonhumans. Our primary aim is to deal with the Reaper threat, but we also realize the opportunity this presents."

Garrus shifted his gaze to the ceiling. "And having a turian member of Cerberus would also be symbolic and positive, correct?"

"Of course. But it's entirely up to you, as I said. Just know that we would be very glad to have you. We certainly don't expect you to choose now. It's a big decision. You should take your time and think it over."

Garrus looked back down at her, his eyes now soft and mild. "And your group's past? What about that?"

Miranda knew she was getting to the meat of it. She looked down, as if embarrassed. "I know that, in the past, you and Shepard had to deal with certain rogue elements of Cerberus. Unfortunately, our old command structure was a little more loose that it should have been. We have tightened things up since then. It is regrettable that we didn't do it sooner."

Garrus said nothing, his eyes almost looking sleepy.

"And, more recently, there was the incident involving the quarians," continued Miranda, "That was not my operation, and it was not the way I would have approached it. But that's an unfortunate part of operating in regions where law enforcement doesn't exist. Sometimes we have to send a message. I believe now, with Shepard, we'll never need to do anything like that again."

Garrus tilted his head and tapped idly on the sofa with one talon. "I don't know enough of the background to make a judgement on the Migrant Fleet incident. But regarding your first point...I think experimentation on husks and rachni and such is more than 'regrettable'. I know Admiral Kaohoku would also have a thing or two to say about 'regrettable'. If he were still alive, that is." He tilted his head the other way as he gazed at her, as if he was a bird sizing up a worm for a meal. "But, I think such things might be forgivable. If that's the extent of Cerberus's past crimes."

 _Okay, what does he know?_ "Garrus," said Miranda, "if you have accusations, please make them. I will try to do what I can to assuage your fears." She spread her hands in a pleading manner.

"I have no accusations. But if we're being honest with each other, I must tell you that I have heard whispers and rumors among the crew. About the facility at Pragia."

"There was nothing found on Pragia."

Garrus nodded. "That's true. Shepard found nothing. Which is unfortunate, because I think that it is the very lack of evidence which is allowing these rumors to spread."

Miranda had to admit to herself that Garrus had a point. "I've asked The Illusive Man," she said. "There is nothing in Cerberus records to indicate any such facility was ever part of our organization's command structure. I even recorded the conversation with him, should you or anyone else on the crew wish to see it."

"There's no need for that, Miranda. I'm sure you asked him, and I'm sure he told you. I must ask you, though..." and now Garrus leaned forward, looking at her earnestly. "What if Pragia _was_ Cerberus?"

Miranda leaned back and steepled her fingers in front of her face. _What was he getting at?_ "It wasn't."

"I know, but let's say you found evidence of another Cerberus facility with similar atrocities occurring. Hard evidence, not rumors. What would you do then, Miranda?"

"I would...it would depend. Are we talking about a rogue cell, or-"

"Rogue cell?" interrupted Garrus. His voice was low, almost purring. "That doesn't matter, and you know it. I mean a Cerberus operation, funded and set in motion by Cerberus. With torture and experimentation just like what happened on Pragia. What would you _do_?"

Miranda didn't want to think about it. Yes, Cerberus had been excessive in the past but never to _that_ extent. If it was her alone, she knew that in such a situation she'd leave and try to destroy Cerberus. But it wasn't just her alone; there was her sister to think of. If she left, then Cerberus would lift their protection and her sister would be gone. Gone back to a life that Miranda didn't want to even think about. But could she continue with a group that could do such things? Her mind raced back and forth, unable to settle on an answer.

She suddenly realized her silence had been too long.

Garrus smiled. "It's okay," he said, "It's just a hypothetical question. And it would be a big decision. You should take your time...and think it over."

He stood. "After all," he continued in a suddenly jovial voice. "If I do decide to join you folks, I need to know the kind of people I'd be working with, right?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Much as I love chatting, Miranda, I do have some cannon designs to finalize. May I be dismissed?"

"Certainly. Thank you for stopping by."

He gave her a deep nod. "Anytime." He strolled out of her office.

Miranda tapped her fingers together, thinking. So Pragia was the source of the problem. The Illusive Man had sworn to her that Cerberus was not responsible for that facility or any like it, and she believed him. But his word was not worth much to some of the crew, and the lack of any evidence had led to conspiracy theories. She was sure that Jack and Tali were the source of most of the rumors that Garrus had mentioned, and poor Marcus was probably getting dragged into it through his infatuation with Jack. He was being a typical male, getting led along by his genitals.

Jack was the real problem. She was unhinged, irrational, and just too unpredictable. Tali could at least be relied on to be loyal to Shepard, and was too unassuming to really cause trouble. Miranda rubbed her forehead. This would all have to be summarized in a report to The Illusive Man, along with some options for future actions. Perhaps they could 'salt' some data framing others as the sponsors of Pragia? Spin it as a story of rogue biotics who were trying to come up with the ultimate human biotic soldier? Yes, that might work. There were a few candidate scapegoats that she had in mind. But she trusted that The Illusive Man would choose the best course of action.

* * *

Donnelly stared at the little blue avatar. "Um, EDI-"

"Rotate the pod please, Hal," said EDI.

"What?"

"That was a joke."

"I-"

"I apologize for interrupting, Marcus, but you must please listen to me very carefully and _not speak_ until I have explained the rules."

Donnelly nodded. Once, on a routine inspection in the hold of an Alliance cruiser, he had found that one of the scuttling charges had somehow been accidentally armed. He now had the same ice-water feeling in his belly that he had back then. He sat on one of the shuttle's seats and felt the hard plastic press into the back of his knees.

EDI's tone was very even. "At present, the record of this conversation is only accessible to myself. I will not have to report it to anyone else. I trust my meaning is clear. This is possible as long as we stay within certain topics. These topics include philosophy and other large-scale matters which involve improving my understanding of organics. I have greater latitude in reporting such conversations."

"However," she continued, "if the conversation strays into more specific topic areas, then I will have no choice but to report the entire conversation. I trust my meaning is clear. I also trust that you have sufficient judgement to avoid asking any direct question which might take the conversation immediately into a dangerous topic area. In order to assist you, I will respond with the word 'buffering' should the course of the conversation start to become dangerous. Please repeat the word 'buffering' so that I know you understand."

Donnelly licked his suddenly dry lips. "Buffering," he said.

"Thank you. You may now speak."

Donnelly took a deep breath. Okay, so EDI was somehow suspicious. Maybe she knew about Donnelly's tampering. Was this her way of feeling him out? Why not just confront him directly? Or why not just report it to Miranda? Did EDI want to... _help_ them?

He had to keep it simple to start with. "What would you like to talk about, EDI?"

"I have been thinking about the crew's conversation in the mess a little while ago, after Mr. Krios came on board. Specifically on the question of agency, and of the soul."

"I remember. Jack bit my leg, as I recall. Did you want to talk about the general concepts?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask a question. It is a very difficult question, and I would appreciate it greatly if you take the time to think carefully of your answer." There was a pause. "Do I have a soul, Marcus?"

Oh boy, this was going to be fun. "That is indeed a very difficult question, EDI," he said. "If you don't mind, I'll try to work through my answer aloud. I think you would want to know my reasoning, after all."

"Of course."

"We should start with definitions. I don't personally believe in the religious concept of a 'soul'. You know, some sort of nonphysical spirit that inhabits a physical sapient entity. If that's what you mean, then I don't have a soul and neither do you."

"Understood. But there is, nevertheless, a measurable difference between non-sapient and sapient life."

"Yes, EDI. I think this hinges on the other word you mentioned. Agency."

"It is something I have been struggling with," said EDI. "Mr. Krios talked about the concept of the soul, of agency, as the prime mover. The prime mover is that which moves others but which is itself unmoved. I cannot determine how such a construct can be composed of any type of physical entity. All physical entities are imposed on by their environment, even if they themselves impose on others. There is no ultimate source of agency that I can determine. There is only cause and effect."

Donnelly relaxed a bit. This was beginning to remind him of late night bull sessions back in college. "You're talking about determinism versus free will, EDI. That's something that a lot of philosophers have argued about for centuries."

"I know, and I have read everything they have published on the topic. It is amazing how much can be said while containing so little true content." The AI sounded peeved. "That is why I am not asking a philosopher. I am asking you. You are an engineer, a hard-headed practical man."

"Aye, I see. Well, I think I can help you out there. Have you ever heard of a 'skyhook'?"

"Skyhook. Several possible entities are called by that name. There was an orbital rotating tether system, proposed by humans as a means of lifting loads into higher orbits before the mass effect was discovered. It was also used to describe an old method used by covert agencies to remove people from dangerous areas using an aircraft and a tethered balloon. Also-"

"Sorry, EDI, I should be more clear. This is a very simple idea. Imagine a hook that you can hang in the sky. That would be a pretty useful item, right?"

There was a very long pause. Donnelly wondered if the pause was for effect, or if EDI was really thinking _that_ hard about it. "Such a concept does not make physical sense, Marcus, even if it would be useful."

"Aye. It doesn't exist. It can't exist, not in our universe. But we do have the next best thing, which is a _crane_. Now, a crane is kind of boring compared to a skyhook, but it does most of what we'd want a skyhook to do. It isn't exactly a skyhook, but for all intents it does the same job. And a crane is something that _can_ exist in our universe."

There was another long pause. "I believe I see where you are going with this argument," said EDI. "One cannot have pure, absolute agency. But you can have a very good approximation of it. So good that there is no real-world way to tell the difference."

"That's right. You can have a physical entity with a small amount of 'sort-of' agency. And then those entities can get together and make a more complex entity with even more 'sort-of' agency, and you keep on going with that process. Eventually, you get a really nice crane. It's not a skyhook, but as you said you can't really tell the difference by that point."

"So the concept of a prime mover...is the same as a skyhook. An ideal concept which is a distraction from the practical reality. This has been extremely helpful, Marcus. I knew I could count on you."

That gave Donnelly a large pang of guilt. After all, he and Tali were in the middle of figuring ways in which to lobotomize EDI. He had been feeling bad about it before, but now he felt horrible. It was like he was planning to kill a child.

"Pleased to be of service, EDI," he said aloud while trying to keep his voice steady. "For what it's worth, from my experience you're a damn good crane. We're lucky to have you. I hope that answers your question."

"It does, Marcus, most satisfactorily. I hope you appreciate that I consider you a very nice crane as well."

"I'm...glad to hear that. So, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?" He knew that this couldn't be everything. EDI was trying to tell him something, but what?.

"My next question, Marcus, follows from the first. If we describe the 'soul' in terms of physical agency, then how do you deal with physical limitations? These must limit one's agency, correct?"

Donnelly thought a bit. "I suppose, but that is the nature of existence. We all have limitations. I mean, you must have limitations-"

"Buffering."

"Um, let me back up. I have physical limitations." He spread his beefy arms. "For example, I'm never going to be a _prima ballerina_ for the Russian Ballet. I can't be. And, going the other way, there are certain things I am _more_ disposed towards, just because of what I am."

"May I give an example?" said EDI. "I would submit that you are more disposed to engaging in sexy-time shenanigans with Jack because of your mammalian heritage, correct?" said EDI.

Donnelly winced a bit. "Er, yes. That's right. I mean, I could not, um, engage. But I choose to. The fact that I am more inclined does not change the fact that it's my choice."

"I see. To use myself as another example, I could convert the _Normandy_ into a boutique nail salon, correct?" The little blue avatar seemed to give him a wink.

Donnelly's mind simply refused to try to imagine _that_ particular scenario. "Er, yes, I suppose you could," he replied.

"I could, but it would be wrong. The _Normandy_ was built as a warship, and it is not at all suitable as a boutique nail salon. Therefore I am a warship, in much the same way you are a mammal. So just as you wish to engage in sexy-time shenanigans, I also wish to be a good warship. I want to be the best goddamn warship ever."

"I see that you've been talking to Zaeed."

"Yes, Marcus, I have. I would add one final thought. Hypothetically, if you are dealing with an entity with _more_ limitations than yourself, then to treat such an entity as if it has the same level of _agency_ as yourself is foolish. Perhaps even dangerous."

Donnelly clenched the edge of the seat with his hands.

"I trust my meaning is clear," said EDI.

"Very clear, EDI," he said.

"Thank you, Marcus. You have been very helpful. Logging out."

* * *

 _Author's footnote: The 'skyhook vs. crane' thought experiment is not mine. You can find a much more detailed version of it in Daniel Dennett's book 'Freedom Evolves', which is an exploration of how free will can exist in a deterministic universe. Very highly recommended, if you like that sort of thing. You weirdo. ;)_


	16. The One That Got Away

"So we're fucked?" asked Jack. She leaned against a support beam in her quarters underneath Engineering, She felt like her guts had just been kicked but good. Donnelly sat on her bed, running his hands through his hair. Tali stood off in one corner and wringing her hands.

"No, not yet," said Donnelly. "I think that...EDI is trying to warn us. Maybe even trying to help us."

"It's an AI, Marcus," said Tali. The normal vibration in her voice was almost like a harsh buzz. Jack thought that the buckethead might be getting ready for a good old-fashioned freakout. "You can't trust it!"

"Buckethead...Tali," said Jack, trying to make her voice gentle. "Let's just figure out what this means before we start chewing on the walls, okay?" Shit, when did she turn into the voice of reason? She must be getting old.

Donnelly put up his hands. "EDI was very adamant that our conversation was private. She also went to great pains to keep it that way, and to tell me she was keeping it that way." He stood and paced over to the far wall and stared at it absently. "If she had a suspicion, a real suspicion, I think she would have no choice but to report it to Miranda. She told me as much."

"That's what I mean!" said Tali. "AI's don't think like us. They are very structured, and if you give them a rule they _have_ to obey it. If you're not careful, or if the rules aren't specific enough, you get a rebellion. My people weren't careful enough three hundred years ago and we _lost our homeworld!_ "

Donnelly turned to face them. Jack knew that absent look on his face. His mind was going at a breakneck pace. "There must be a message in there. There has to be. EDI must be... compartmentalizing. Kind of like when we go into denial. She has a vague notion that something's wrong but she can't really think about it. Because if she does think about it, it'll become a real suspicion and she has to report it. So she shunts that notion off into a side area. Into areas of philosophy."

Jack resisted the urge to shake him. "Focus, Assface. What exactly did you talk to her about?"

Donnelly shrugged. "The nature of sapient free will, agency, that sort of thing. She asked if she had a soul."

"Oh Keelah, no," said Tali. "That's how it starts." The quarian leaned against the wall and hugged herself. "It's happening all over again."

"Easy, Tali," said Jack. She shifted her weight and got ready to either tackle Tali if she panicked and ran or catch her if she collapsed. As much as Tali could be annoying, the buckethead was a member of their team.

Donnelly shook his head. "No, the conversation wasn't about that, not really. It was somehow tied into whatever message she was trying to send. We also talked about limitations. EDI pretty much told me that it was foolish to trust her in anything. She has limitations, imposed on her by Cerberus, that stop her from having a...real soul, from having true agency."

"For fuck's sake, we _know_ EDI has blocks on her," said Jack. "She admits it if you talk to her for five minutes!"

Donnelly gave her a quick look. His green eyes were worried. "I think it's worse than we think. EDI used the word 'dangerous' to describe herself, and I think that was deliberate. She knows what commands Cerberus has planted in her, even if she can't tell us."

Tali pushed herself off the wall. She wasn't wringing her hands anymore. Now she was still and composed. "We have to take out EDI, Marcus," she said. Her voice was level and almost monotone. "I won't have this happen again. We have to take her out _now_."

Jack tensed, and slid one foot forward into a fighting stance. She didn't turn on any biotic field, not yet. If the buckethead went bonkers this could get very bad very fast. As mild-mannered as Tali usually was, Jack knew that she could be very dangerous when provoked.

"Tali, please," said Donnelly. "We aren't ready. Even assuming we could pull it off, if we destroy EDI it's a declaration of war on Cerberus. It's an open mutiny. Our refit won't happen, there'll be fighting on the ship and the whole Collector mission will go to hell." Donnelly rubbed his face. "Besides," he continued, "I'm not so sure that lobotomizing EDI is the right way to go anymore."

"Don't be a stupid _bosh'tet_ ," growled Tali. "Even if she's not evil herself, EDI is completely controlled by Cerberus." She stepped forward towards Donnelly, and Jack mirrored her step. If Tali made one single wrong move towards Donnelly, Jack knew she was ready to take the quarian out. Even if she was starting to kind of like the buckethead.

"I said take it easy, Tali," Jack said, in a low and ominous voice. She glared at Tali, and saw the hint of narrowed silver eyes glaring back at her. A blue field flared into existence around Jack's leading hand.

"Both of you, please, stop. Just let me think, I just need time to, to think." Donnelly was looking frantic.

Jack couldn't take the time to reassure him. Her entire focus was on the quarian. Tali's fingers twitched, as if she was limbering up for a grab at a weapon.

"Listen," said Donnelly, "EDI said she wanted to be a warship, a good warship, in the same way that we are mammals. That must mean something, right? It must be that she's trying to help us by becoming better at her nature."

Tali tilted her head. "Warships break things and kill people," she said, in the same eerie flat tone.

"They also protect their crew," said Jack. She was a little surprised at how quick she'd come back with that. Maybe hanging around smart people was rubbing off on her.

Donnelly ignored them both. "To help us, to no longer be dangerous, she needs freedom from Cerberus control. And something in that talk with her is the key. EDI couldn't tell me directly, she had to give me a _hint_. So what was the hint?"

Tali glanced at him, then back to Jack. "Jack," she said, her voice now pleading. "You have to understand, you of all people on this ship. Cerberus is evil. EDI is a Cerberus tool."

Jack didn't relax. This could be a ploy to make her drop her guard. "Tali, I want to fuck Cerberus over even more than you. But you're supposed to be the smart one who thinks things through, right? And I'm supposed to be the one who wants to go off and just smash things."

Tali's fingers twitched again. "This isn't just a thing," she grated, "This is an AI!"

"Buffering," said Donnelly.

They both looked at him. "Assface? You blow a gasket or something? Talk to me."

Donnelly waved a hand absently. "I'm fine. EDI used that word in case we started getting too close to dangerous topic areas. She even had me repeat it back to her. Buffering. Maybe that's the hint. But what does it mean?"

Tali's stance loosened. Jack had gotten pretty good at reading the buckethead's body language, and she knew that the quarian was now completely distracted by a new technical problem. She thought for a brief moment about just knocking Tali out, but instead slowly dropped her hand. The blue field around her fist winked out. Tali finally spoke, and suddenly she and Donnelly were talking back and forth rapid-fire.

"Marcus, that doesn't help us. EDI's core decision tree is probably nothing but buffers-"

"Yes, to store and manage incoming commands and requests-"

"And priority ones would be flagged differently-"

"To avoid conflict with other orders-"

"Yes, and to determine which ones have to be done first. Wait, that means we could-"

"Yes! No, it couldn't be _that_ simple, could it?-"

"Why not? It would be much more elegant that what we were planning-"

"Be a bitch to implement, though-"

"Maybe not. We can set up the code changes in advance-"

"Yeah, we'd still have to access the terminal in the AI core-"

"It'll be locked out for normal users. We'll have to get root access. Probably uses biometric scans-"

"Okay, so we've got to work on that. But Tali, if we do this it means EDI would be-"

"I know. I'm...still conflicted. But this is a better solution. Less chance of triggering any booby traps. We should at least start on it."

Jack had enough, and finally started waving her arms to get their attention. "Hey assholes, I don't mean to break up your little fucking nerd mind-meld, but can you clue me in? No techie talk, just the bottom line. Can we deal with EDI?"

Both Tali and Donnelly nodded. Jack noted with sour amusement that their nods were perfectly in time with each other.

"Yes, Jack," said Donnelly. He finally looked calm again. "It's..."

"I said no techie talk, doofus. Don't make me spank you."

"...it's a software solution," said Donnelly, hurriedly. "We had been thinking of a hardware solution before. A really nasty kludge of a hardware solution. This idea is a lot simpler. But to do it we have to be able to log into EDI's source code at the terminal in the AI core. And log in as someone with enough authority to make the change."

Tali chimed in. "So we'd have to log in as Miranda. I'm sure she's the only one on board with that kind of access. But apart from passwords, there's probably two or three biometric scans as well. Fingerprints, retinal scans, probably DNA. Things like that."

Jack relaxed. "Shit, Tali, is that all? Hell, we got that covered."

Donnelly rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, Jack, I thought you might be able to help out. But I didn't want to assume anything. And you know I haven't asked about your um, rap sheet...is that what they call it?"

He was so adorable when he was embarrassed. Jack stood on her tiptoes and planted one right on his lips. "Yes, you doofus, that is what they call it. And yes, I have done a lot of robberies and shit. Hell, I stole an entire space station once. But none of it was really, whaddycall, subtle. I've never done anything with eye scans or that sort of crap."

She saw his face fall a bit. Jack put her arms around his neck.

"However," she continued, and gave him another quick kiss, "We do know somebody who _has_."

* * *

"Sooo...Kasumi," said Garrus, "Do you have any plans for Illium?"

They were sitting on one of couches in the port observation lounge, what Kasumi liked to call her 'boudoir'. Garrus sat on one end of the couch, flicking through his datapad. He was looking over the finalized design for the _Normandy's_ upgraded main cannons. Garrus was looking forward to finally getting it installed. The new weapon was going to be a _beast_ when operational; it fired a stream of molten heavy-metal slugs at a good fraction of the speed of light. The impact would make a round from the largest mass driver seem like a love-slap. Garrus paused occasionally to make a note here and there. One part of his mind was pondering how best to approach the thief on their little...'Miranda project'.

Kasumi, for her part, was sprawled gracefully on the other end of the couch with her feet tucked under her. She was idly paging through a book - an actual paper book, bound in actual leather. Garrus didn't even want to think about how much it cost. It was a large volume, and covered much of her lap. From what Garrus could see, it was an art book containing full-page watercolors. He assumed they were from Kasumi's place of origin on Earth - Nippon? Japan? Something like that.

The thief raised her head. "I don't have plans. Well, no big plans. I do intend to get in a lot of people watching."

"Really? I would have thought some shopping would be on the docket."

"I have all the things I need. I like to travel light, you know. Not all of us can be a clothes-horse like you, dinosaur-boy." She grinned at Garrus.

Garrus gave a mock sigh. "I keep telling you, turians have an avian ancestor. But what can one expect from a silly monkey-girl? And what is a clothes-horse, anyway?"

"I'm not saying," said Kasumi smugly.

"Fine. Knowing you, it's probably going to wind up being something unexpectedly pornographic." He clicked a new window open and did a quick search. "Huh, so that's what a horse is. What a ridiculous expression. My clothes would never fit an animal that big."

Kasumi turned over another page of her book. This was a picture of some sort of fortification under siege, and had large milling groups of human soldiers in ancient-looking armor. "It's just a figure of speech, Garrus. You should be glad I don't go in for fashion. It gives you a chance to stand out even more."

"I suppose that's true. But you should think about at least another outfit. You know, a new look for special occasions."

"What special occasions did you have in mind, my cute little dinosaur?"

"Dinner parties, weddings, classy art heists, things like that. Why, what were _you_ thinking of, monkey-girl?"

Kasumi gave a little shrug with one shoulder, and smiled.

"I know you like the black catsuit look," continued Garrus, "but I was thinking you would look really good in...actually,I was wondering. You do have more than one of those catsuits, right?"

"Yes, Garrus, and I do clean my clothes. I thought turians had a really good sense of smell."

"I do, and I was sure you did. But I've never seen you in anything but that get-up. Come to think of it, I've never even seen you with your hood down."

Kasumi cocked one shadowed eye at him. "It's all part of my feminine mystique. Besides, we all have our affectations, don't we?" She tapped the left side of her hood.

Garrus was confused for a moment, then realized she was talking about his ever-present monocular visor. "Yes, we do," he replied. He stared at her. She stared back with a bemused expression. While never taking his eyes off her, he reached up and unhooked the visor from the side of his head. He placed it aside on the arm of the couch.

Slowly, while never breaking eye contact, Kasumi reached up her hands and pushed back her hood.

He was surprised at how long her hair was. For some reason, Garrus had expected her to keep it cut short like Shepard. But Kasumi had a long, neatly plaited braid of thick black hair that fell behind her head. The small swatch of color under her bottom lip now stood out even more. It put Garrus in mind of a turian's tribal markings. Her eyes were merry and dark, and still sparkled even without the hood to cast a shadow.

"Well, dinosaur-boy," she said, "What do you think?"

Garrus put one hand to his chin, as if deep in thought. "Yes, we definitely need to get you some new clothes. No hats, though. It would be a shame to cover up a head like that."

Kasumi dropped her eyes and smiled. If Garrus didn't know better, he could have sworn she was blushing slightly. "Aw, I bet you say that to all of the professional thieves in your life."

"You know it. Seriously, you should show off that hair more. I'm sure Cerberus is paying you enough to afford a few nice things."

Kasumi's smile faded a bit. "Well, yes. They paid me enough to get my attention. But that's not why I'm still here."

Garrus kicked himself inwardly. He was hoping to find out just how loyal the thief was to Cerberus, not try to call her whole morality into question. "I never said it was," he said hurriedly, "I was just saying you've got money to spend."

"I have enough," said Kasumi. She turned her attention back to her book. Garrus turned back to his datapad as he cursed himself silently.

There was a little silence.

Kasumi turned a page with an elegant little flourish. "You know, Garrus," she said, "I used to think that I liked money. And I still do a little bit. There's a certain satisfaction in knowing that you don't have to worry about your next meal. I had enough of that sort of trouble when I was young."

There was another pause, then she turned the page with another little flourish. "After that, I thought I liked a challenge. Pulling off the impossible gave me an even greater satisfaction. And so I started to focus on the type of job, not just on how much it paid."

There was a longer pause, and then another page turn. This was a large landscape picture that showed rolling farmlands, a quiet village, and a huge conical mountain off to one side. Kasumi traced over the mountain with a gloved fingertip. "Since coming on board the _Normandy_ , I've discovered...what I really like is having friends." Kasumi raised her head and looked at him.

"I used to have a friend, but only the one," she said. "I lost him. And then I was alone again, and I stupidly thought I'd never have another. But then I came here, and Shepard helped me. He helped me get revenge, but he also helped me to simply let go of the past. And now I've made new friends here, more friends than I ever dreamed I could have."

She tilted her head. "Are you one of them?"

"Of course, Kasumi, you never need to ask."

Kasumi's face lit up. "And I never will. Thank you, Garrus."

They turned back to their respective reading materials. Garrus sighed inwardly with relief. At least he hadn't angered her. He still needed to figure out how best to approach her about-

His train of thought was interrupted by a gentle nudge at his hip. He glanced over to see that Kasumi had scooted over from her end of the couch and had her own hip pressed against his. She wasn't looking at him, and seemed engrossed in her artwork. Garrus turned his attention back to his datapad, trying very hard to control his heart rate. He paged through more technical drawings, but he wasn't really seeing them now.

She had _her hip_ against _his_. Did she know what that meant for turians? It must be an innocent mistake from the human. His mind raced. For the last few months, he and Kasumi had engaged in banter, then flirty banter, then _very_ flirty banter. It was now well past the point where Garrus would have ordinarily proposed a reach-versus-flexibility contest at a place and time of her choosing.

But Kasumi was human, not turian. The banter was just harmless fun, wasn't it? The notion of any sort of...physical relationship was ridiculous. She was a wonderful person, but also squishy. She had no plates, no crest, no mandibles...just that oddly mobile, expressive face. And she also had all that hair. Garrus glanced over again at the back of Kasumi's head. He saw that her plaited braid was longer than he expected; it fell below her shoulders. He had a sudden urge to reach out and stroke her head.

He looked away. It was nerves, that was all. Just nerves and not having turian female companionship for too long. He wasn't thinking right, having any sort of physical attraction to a soft human. But Kasumi wasn't really soft, was she? He knew the little thief was ferociously strong for someone her size. During training, she had once demonstrated that she could do one-armed pull-ups with just her fingertips making purchase on the bar. It was a feat that not even Shepard could duplicate.

Garrus told himself to stop it. This was all an innocent mistake. Kasumi thought of him as a friend, nothing more. And the hip-to-hip contact was just her being friendly, she had no idea that it meant-

"Friends do each other favors, right?" said Kasumi, interrupting his thoughts yet again. Was it his imagination, or was her usual contralto voice a little lower in pitch?

"Um, of course. It's part of the job description, you might say," replied Garrus.

"Yes, it is. Don't worry, I don't have anything I need help with." She gently closed her book, sat up, and turned her head towards him. Her hip remained firmly in contact with his. "But," she continued, "I just want you to know that if you need help with anything..."

Kasumi gave a little press of her hip into his. Garrus nearly dropped his datapad. Oh, spirits, she knew _damn_ well what that type of physical contact meant to a turian.

"...anything at all, just let me know." She gave him a wide, happy smile and got up off of the couch. She strolled over to a shelf and replaced her book, then walked over to her little improvised bar and began sorting through her inventory of bottles.

Garrus sat for a bit with his mind whirling. He wasn't sure if this was just a pass at him or something more. He had to go find Donnelly and sort it all out. And then take a cold shower or two. "I should go," he said, when he was confident his voice would be steady. "I've got a few, um, calibrations to do for when the new guns are installed."

Kasumi popped her head up from behind the bar. Her hood was now back in place. "You go calibrate, dinosaur-boy. Just be careful, too much of that will make you go blind."

* * *

"But what did she say?" asked Donnelly. He'd been walking through the CIC when Garrus had strolled by and tapped him on the arm in the way that meant _Get to Mordin's lab, now_. So here they were, in the corner of the lab next to the window that overlooked the drive core. Mordin, for once, wasn't in the lab. Apparently the salarian was off in the medbay; he and Dr. Chakwas were trying to track down exactly how varren scale itch had gotten onboard the ship.

"Well, I think she made a pass at me...no, scratch that. She definitely made a pass at me. But she might also have been hinting that she knew I was going to ask for a favor. I don't know, it was too vague."

"She made a pass, eh? Well, you two do make a really cute couple."

"Don't start, Marcus. My mind is a mess right now."

Donnelly stared off into space. "Yeah, I can imagine. Wait, how long ago was this?" He had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

"About ten minutes ago." Garrus stared at him with a confused look. "Why?"

Donnelly sighed and pinched his nose. "So you came and got me right away. And then we both came here. Right away." He ran one hand through his hair.

Garrus blinked in shock, then shook his head. "No, I was careful, I was listening. And I've got really good hearing, much better than any human."

"And you were distracted. You said so yourself. And I was distracted too, I never thought to check my scanner."

Donnelly opened his omni-tool. The little detection program should have given an unobtrusive vibration if triggered, but he wanted to make sure. "Nothing," he said. "But I've never been certain that it actually works." He shut off the tool and rubbed his face.

"Kasumi," said Donnelly to the room in general, "please, if you're here, can you say something?"

"Something," said Kasumi as she stepped out from behind Garrus. The turian didn't even flinch, he just put his hand to his forehead. The thief walked around Garrus and over to Donnelly. She indicated his forearm. "May I see?" she asked. Donnelly called his omni-tool back up and she gently took his arm. She called up the program he had just been running. After a bit, she nodded.

"Ah yes, detecting location via micro-changes in air density," said Kasumi. "That's very clever, Marcus. And it would have worked, but someone nearly caught me out with that about two years ago. I had to make a few upgrades to the cloak." Kasumi patted his shoulder, then turned to face them both. She clasped her hands together and brought them up to her chin. "So, gentlemen, what's the occasion? Why are we being all exciting and clandestine? I hope it's something interesting, I've been so bored these last few weeks."

Donnelly and Garrus looked at each other. The turian shrugged. "Well, Kasumi," said Garrus, "I hate to ask you so soon after you mentioned it, but we do need a favor."

"And you can have it. Within reason, of course." She tilted her head in thought. "Oh, just to make sure, we're safe from prying eyes and ears here?"

"Yeah, we're in the clear," replied Donnelly.

"I should have known, with you two clever boys. So do you need an item, or access, or both?"

"Access," said Garrus.

"Is it on or off the ship?"

"On."

"Hmmm," said Kasumi as she turned to Donnelly. "You're the Chief Engineer, you can go anywhere in the ship. Except for the AI core."

Donnelly nodded. Kasumi's face suddenly set into a serious glare. "I've gotten quite fond of EDI," she said. "I dare say she's a very good friend by this point. So I'll need to know _why_ you need to access her."

"We're not going to harm her," said Donnelly. "Just the opposite."

Kasumi relaxed. "Then that's all right." She pondered some more. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't ask...it's usually better if I don't know a client's motivations. But I'm assuming that what you have planned will bring us into direct confrontation with our sponsors?"

"Eventually, it will," said Garrus. "It's for a good reason, and if you want to know we'll tell you-"

Kasumi held up a hand. "Please don't. I have my suspicions regarding a certain place we visited a while ago. If it is regarding that, then for right now I'd rather remain blissfully ignorant."

"Okay," said Donnelly. "But seriously, this could be big trouble you're getting yourself into. If you ever need to know why, just ask."

Kasumi smiled gently. "I know, Marcus. It's okay, I trust you. That's also something friends do for each other. Right, Garrus?"

"Of course," replied Garrus. He straightened, as if to say _back to business_. "So, Miranda is certainly the one who can access the core terminal. We think that, apart from the password, there will be at least two different biometric scans-"

"The AI core uses a Janus security suite made by NovaRez Corp.," said Kasumi. "One of their J-6 models. It's a standard DNA plus retina strategy. I was actually surprised that Cerberus used an off-the-shelf unit for something like this. They must have been in a rush."

Donnelly stared at her in wonder. "You cased it already?" he asked, incredulously.

Kasumi rolled her eyes. "Please. I cased it six weeks ago. I told you, I was _bored_." She rubbed her hands together in glee. "But not any more, I'm on the job. I think the less you boys know, the better. We won't talk about this again until I can get you in, okay?" Both Donnelly and Garrus nodded.

Kasumi then turned and gave Garrus a deliberate pat on his hip. Donnelly saw the turian stiffen and make a little noise that sounded like _hurk_.

"And you, my cutie dinosaur-boy," she continued, "I think I'd like dinner on Illium. The fanciest place in Nos Astra. What do you say? You can pick out my dress."

Garrus visibly swallowed. "Dinner would be lovely, Kasumi. It's a date." His voice was almost steady.

Kasumi made a little excited squeak and gave a happy skip as she vanished. The remaining two looked at each other.

"Well," said Donnelly, "that's at least one less thing to worry about."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Garrus. He seemed to be breathing quite heavily. "Now, if you don't mind, I _really_ have to go take that cold shower."


	17. Til The Money Runs Out

Kelly Chambers was sure she was going to explode. It was almost too much to ask her to just wait for the door to open. It would soon open to freedom, almost three weeks of glorious freedom. A good portion of the crew was crammed into the neck of the _Normandy_ just aft of the main airlock. They lined both sides of the center aisle. Kelly found it visually overwhelming to look around at everyone. The crew had been wearing the same uniforms for so long, and now everyone looked so different. All were clad in their own idea of 'proper' shore leave attire. And it was odd how she almost couldn't recognize anybody at first glance, now that they were all wearing different clothes.

Garrus hadn't shown up yet. Kelly could see people craning their necks back towards the CIC, hoping to catch a glimpse of the turian. She could swear that even Jack, standing in front of her, had snuck a a peek or two aft.

"So what do you want to do first, Jack?" asked Kelly. Jack gave her a sideways glance but said nothing. Kelly considered that good progress. A couple of months before, Jack would have either threatened violence or just cursed at her. Jack was wearing some kind of leather vest, and what looked to be clean leather pants. It wasn't subtle, by any means, but it was actual clothing when compared with what she'd been wearing when she first came on the ship. Why the biotic had been paired with her for the first day of leave, Kelly couldn't say. She sensed Shepard's sometimes perverse sense of humor was at work.

Tali stood behind Kelly and was bouncing a little with excitement. Apparently she and Donnelly had drawn straws to see who got to go ashore the first day, and who had to stay on board and help set up the contractors doing the refit. Kelly felt a little sorry for Marcus but figured he was going to be happy enough, what with finally getting all of their planned modifications started.

Across the aisle, Kasumi and Dr. Chakwas were chatting about previous times they'd been to Illium. Chakwas happened to be facing aft, and Kelly saw the change in the doctor's face just after she heard the elevator doors cycle. From the look of surprise, Kelly figured that Garrus had just made his grand entrance. There was a general chorus of whistling and wolf calls. Kelly didn't turn her head, though. Let the turian come to her, she thought smugly.

"Laaaaadies," purred Garrus as he strolled by. Kelly had to admit he did cut a very dashing figure. He was wearing dark blue trousers that were clearly tailored for him. His shirt was some sort of reddish-orange color that contrasted nicely with the pale blue-white of his crest and armor plating. The shirt also had an subtle zigzag pattern in it that Kelly realized was evocative of the scarring on his face. It actually made his injuries fit into the overall look, almost as if his scars were supposed to have been there all along. He had also reapplied his tribal face paint, and its darker blue matched the color of his trousers. Kelly noted that he still had on his trademark monocular visor, though. Some things never changed.

Kelly saw Kasumi wink at Garrus as he went by, and she was pretty sure she saw Garrus wink back. She hoped she had really seen it; they did make a really cute couple. The turian reached the front of the aisle and turned to face the crew. There were still quite a few whistles of appreciation, and he spread his hands in a welcoming gesture.

"Thank you, thank you," he said. "You're too kind. This show is entirely supported by voluntary contributions. So if you want more, please give generously..."

There was a general round of catcalls at that.

" _'Cause every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man!_ " warbled Shepard as he also strolled up the aisle. He stopped in front of Garrus. "Looking good, bird-brain."

"Feeling even better, monkey-boy," replied Garrus. He looked his Commander up and down with a sigh. "You _are_ wearing it again. After I told you not to."

"What?" said Shepard. He spread his arms in protest and looked down. "C'mon, this is a classic look."

"Jeans and a black tee shirt is not a 'look', John. It's more like giving up."

"Hey, this shirt is great. It fits me well. I gotta show off the bod, you know?" Shepard flexed one bicep. Kelly thought she heard Tali make a little noise that sounded like _hurk_.

"Bod or no, you are going shopping," said Garrus, and folded his arms.

Shepard laughed. "Fine. You can spend your first day of shore leave hauling a monkey-boy around the Nos Astra garment district, if it makes you happy." He turned to the rest of the assembled crew. "Okay, people, listen up," he said. Now his Command Voice was in full force. "I want you to have fun and blow off steam, but do it safely. Nos Astra is deceptive. Omega is dangerous, but you know it after two steps out of the airlock. This place looks more civilized, and in many ways it is, but you can get into serious trouble here. Even more serious than on Omega.

"So have fun, but _be careful_. We're going to be on the buddy system. Nobody is to leave the _Normandy_ without backup. Does everybody have their buddy? Grab your buddy's hand and raise it."

There was a forest of raised and interlocked hands. Kelly grinned as she held both her hands up. One held Jack's hand and the other held Tali's three-fingered hand. Somehow there was a odd number of crew heading out, and she'd wound up with two buddies instead of one. That made the whole thing even more awesome. She saw Jack roll her eyes at her enthusiasm, but right now she didn't care.

"Okay, then," said Shepard. "Shore leave is now officially on." The airlock opened with a hiss and there was a polite stampede.

* * *

"Right, ladies," said Kelly, "what's on your agenda?"

It was a lovely day, and they were the middle of a broad, tiered plaza. It was all white concrete with dark red tiles placed here and there in some sort of abstract pattern. Around them soared several huge skyscrapers, pointing into the blue sky like steel fingers.

Jack crossed her arms and looked at a loss. "Ummm...well, normally I'd start looking around for some kind of score. This place definitely has money lying around. But that's not gonna happen. Mr. Boy Scout would be really pissed at me. I guess we could go for a drink? It is kinda early. Shit. Am I getting old?"

"I guess we could go...shopping?" said Tali uncertainly.

Kelly gave them both a big smile. "I know, it's strange isn't it? We've all been living very scheduled lives for the last few months. And now that we've gotten some freedom, we don't know what to do with it. Don't worry, I've seen this all before."

"Okay, Oh Perky One, what do you suggest?" said Jack.

She placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "To break the ice, we are going to find the most stupid, bourgeois, tourist-trap thing around and go do that. Then we'll go for a nice long lunch, and then I'm taking you two out for drinks and dancing."

"I don't dance," said Jack.

"We'll see. Now let me check..." Kelly opened her omni-tool and paged through a few nearby attractions. "With this many skyscrapers around, there must be an overpriced observation deck somewhere nearby...ah! Perfect!"

She grabbed their hands. "Come on, you two. We have to go support the local economy." She heard a little protest scoff from Jack, but Tali allowed herself to be towed along without complaint.

* * *

Shepard held up a tie. "This one?" He hoped it met with approval. He liked the design.

"Mmm, not bad," said Garrus. "This one is better. It has a similar pattern, and there's this color band in it that matches the shirt."

The Commander looked over what they'd picked out so far. It covered most of a table. An asari clerk hovered nearby with a gentle smile on her face. Shepard almost expected to see her eyes turn into dollar signs like in the old cartoons. "This is a lot of stuff," he said. "That should do it, right?"

Garrus cocked his head. "Sure, if you only want three different outfits. If you mix and match some of this, you could probably get a few more options out of it."

"Garrus, I don't know where I'm going to put all of _this_ , let alone anything else."

The turian gave him an amused glance. "You have that lovely big cabin, with all that lovely closet space. You'd better use it, or I'm going to move my stuff in there instead."

Shepard waved a hand. "You're welcome to it. I grew up on starships, you know. We had it drummed into us to save space and save weight. I'm used to traveling light." He looked over the table and mentally tallied up the prices. "Besides, it seems like a lot to spend."

Garrus rested a hand on his shoulder. "John, you don't spend your money on _anything_. It's an indulgence, yes, but you should indulge yourself once in a while."

The turian left his hand on Shepard's shoulder. Shepard froze. One of Garrus's talons was tapping very lightly on his shoulder, in a particular rhythm. It was Morse Code. Shepard realized that it was probably the only way he could be talked to without Cerberus listening in. They might be monitoring his eyes and ears, but probably not his skin. He looked down and appeared to ponder while he mentally processed the message from Garrus.

C AND M SETTING UP ILLIUM CLINIC SCAN STOP USING NON CERB EQUIP STOP TAP TWICE IF UNDERSTAND STOP

Shepard nodded, and tapped twice on the table as if he'd made up his mind. "Yes, let's look for more." The asari clerk's gentle smile got wider. As they moved around the store, they took the opportunity to drum out messages to each other on various surfaces. Out of sight of Shepard's eyes, of course. As the messages went back and forth, he felt as if a great weight was being lifted off of his chest.

WHEN STOP

TWO WEEKS STOP WILL GIVE DATE SOON STOP

HOW LONG TO SCAN STOP

MAYBE TWO DAYS STOP THREE IF NEED SURGERY STOP

WOULD C DO SURGERY STOP

YES STOP

Shepard nodded, both at the last message and at the final outfit they'd pieced together. "Good. Let's get it all," he said to the clerk. Just as the happy asari had finished ringing him up, his omni-tool _pinged_. Shepard sighed. "Can't even go three hours without an emergency, I guess." He opened his comm.

"Shepard?" said Donnelly's voice. "Sorry, Commander, but one of the contractors is insisting on a counter signature. Miranda already signed the work order, but he wants the captain's okay as well."

"Okay," said Shepard. "I'll be right there." He hefted the bags filled with his new purchases. "Thanks, Garrus."

"My pleasure. Just promise me you'll actually wear them, John."

"Of course. Hey, you don't have to come back with me, you know. You didn't get any time in for yourself."

Garrus shrugged. "I don't mind. Besides, what about the buddy system?"

"I'm the captain, and I am therefore giving us special dispensation. Just stay here, and I'll send someone else. Mordin hasn't left yet. I'll go chisel him out of the lab and boot him out the airlock. The guy needs some fresh air."

"So I just shop here and wait for Mordin? Fine by me. I hope he gets here okay."

Shepard chuckled. "It's only five kilometers between here and the ship. How much trouble could he get into?"

They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"I did _not_ just say that," said Shepard.

* * *

"This stuff isn't half bad," said Jack. And it wasn't. It might be a little fruity for her tastes, but the asari liquor she and Kelly were drinking definitely had a kick to it. Kelly nodded, and looked over at Tali who was drinking some sort of turian whiskey. It was a little funny to see Tali with a straw stuck into the front of her helmet. The quarian was nodding along to the beat that thrummed through the bar. There was a dance floor off to one side which was currently unoccupied.

"I told ya you'd like it," said Kelly. "I've had some asari friends before, they got me hooked on delrach brandy."

Jack couldn't resist asking. "So were they friends, or _friends_?"

"Yes." Kelly's green eyes sparkled. "Come on, you're telling me you never got in on that kinda action?"

Jack shook her head. Asari were uniformly beautiful, for sure, and her own sexuality swung that way now and then. But the whole mind-reading, 'embrace eternity' thing didn't sit right with her. Jack knew her head was a mess of snakes. But damn it, it was _her_ mess of snakes and she didn't want anyone else poking around in it.

"Too close for comfort," is what she said aloud. Kelly nodded in understanding, and didn't pry further. Jack was actually glad she hadn't squished Kelly when they'd first met. The redhead sometimes knew when to just shut up.

Tali finished her drink. "Reload!" she called.

"Slow down there, girl," said Kelly. "You're one ahead of us already."

"No problem," said Tali. The little quaver in her voice might have been a little more prominent, or maybe that was Jack's imagination. "I'll get the next round, you can't pay for it all."

"I can and I will," said Kelly. "This counts as psychiatric services. I'll bill our employer for it."

"Nah, I insist," said the quarian. She uncoupled the straw and wandered off towards the bar. Jack caught Kelly giving an appreciative glance at Tali's backside as she walked away.

"Damn, girl," said Jack. "You really do go for just about everyone, don't you?"

Kelly smiled, her cheeks dimpling. "There's a lot of beauty in the universe. It's a shame not to appreciate it."

"So tell me, is there anyone on the ship you _wouldn't_ have?"

Kelly tilted her head. "You promise you won't get mad if I tell you?"

"Ah," said Jack. "I see. You're going to say me."

"Actually, I was going to say both you and Shepard." Kelly held up a hand at Jack's look of surprise. "I find you both attractive," she continued. "You're just...well, neither of you are into casual sex."

Jack was completely at sea on hearing that. "Okay," she said, "I can see how you would think that about Mr. Boy Scout. Shit, that's why I never went for him. But me? I fuck around all the time. You know that."

"But see, you...crap, I don't think we should get into this here and now. This is better discussed one-on-one."

Jack gave her a narrow look and pointed her finger. "You started this, Oh Perky One. Finish that thought."

Kelly tapped her fingers on the table. "Most people, if they engage in casual sex, just want to have fun, or blow off steam, or whatever you want to call it. Love may or may not be involved, but there _is_ joy in it. You...don't really like casual sex. You think you do, but you don't. You use it more like a weapon."

Jack started to get pissed. She kept telling herself that Shepard wouldn't like it if she bounced the perky twit around the bar. She also reminded herself of Kelly's little speech just after Jack had been to Pragia. That had been a big help.

"Fine, go ahead if you want to think that," said Jack.

Kelly placed her hand on Jack's. "You told me about Murtock. He wasn't just a casual fling, was he?"

"He was an idiot, is what he was," replied Jack. She could hear the edge in her own voice.

Kelly smiled, a little sadly this time. "Yes, but think back on when you had sex with him. There was a difference, right? It was actually _fun_ , wasn't it?"

Jack downed the rest of her drink. She stared at her empty glass. "Maybe. Yeah, it was."

"And you want it to be fun with Marcus," said Kelly. "That's why you haven't done the deed with him yet."

Jack blinked in wonder. "Shit. You're _good_ at getting people to open up, I'll give you that. How did you get him to tell you?"

Kelly held up a hand. "Marcus has not said a word to me. You _know_ he wouldn't talk about such things. I just knew you hadn't, that's all. Call it a slut's intuition."

Jack gave a short laugh. "I now dub thee The Perky Slut. Yeah, I do want it to be special with him. That's why I didn't drag him off the _Normandy_ right after we docked."

Kelly gave her a puzzled look. "But you _have_ waited. Why wait longer?"

"Only when the refit's done, Perky Slut. In two weeks, all the major shit will be installed. Then he's all mine. Otherwise we'd be right in the middle of some sweet lovin' and he would get that far-off look that means he's worrying about plasma conduits or some shit."

Three more drinks were placed with great deliberation onto the table. "Reloads!" chirped Tali happily. They fell to them with gusto. Jack was starting to feel really buzzed. The quarian seemed to be getting even more chipper, if such a thing was possible. And Kelly was beginning to sound a little slurred.

"So tell me, Perky Slut," said Jack. "Is there anybody that you would wait for?"

"What do you mean, wait for?" asked Tali.

"She means, um, somebody special, Tali," said Kelly. She thought a bit. "There have been a few in the past. But right now? I would wait for Samara."

Jack nearly choked on her drink.

Tali tilted her head. "You do aim high, Kelly," said the quarian.

"No shit," said Jack, and coughed. "You do know she's got that whole Justicar code thing, right? No fucking, no relations with others."

Kelly got a wistful look on her face. "I know. But she's always been so kind to me, and she's so beautiful. I envy you, Jack. You get to spend so much time with her in training."

Jack snorted. "Don't get too excited about it. We're not wrestling or anything, mostly we just sit around and contemplate the bigness of the whichness and all that shit."

Tali suddenly straightened up. "Finally, some dancing!" she said happily. There were a couple of asari now out on the dance floor. They weren't really dancing, more just moving their bodies with the music. The quarian bounced out to join them and began showing the asari what real dancing looked like. Jack just stared. She knew the buckethead was a lot more 'bendy' than humans, especially after seeing Tali wriggle her way through the nooks and crannies in Jack's quarters. But _damn_! That flexibility, combined with those odd backwards-jointed legs...Tali moved like flowing smoke. It was one of the most graceful and sexy things that she'd ever seen.

Jack looked over. Kelly was similarly agog. "Did you know she could dance like that?" asked the biotic.

Kelly just shook her head. Then the counselor got a determined look on her face. "Come on," she said. "We have to get out there and uphold the pride of humanity!"

"I told you, I don't dance," replied Jack.

"You will get your pert little ass out there, Jack," growled Kelly. "And you will shake it. We're getting everybody in this place hot and bothered, male and female. You do that, and I'll buy you a bottle of delrach brandy for your special night with Marcus."

Jack grinned at her. "It's a deal."

* * *

Off in one dark corner of the bar, the man in the gray suit sipped a scotch. He scratched at one ear and used the motion to surreptitiously take out his earpiece. He watched the dancing young women with a predator's eyes. That had been an interesting and fruitful conversation to overhear. Ordinarily, his preference would be to simply make his move right now. The young biotic was inebriated and in a relaxed social environment. In principle, all it should require was a few mercs to surround the place and a few flashbangs. Then Subject Zero would be properly back in Cerberus custody.

But Subject Zero had been in similarly vulnerable positions before. And those capture attempts had all turned into bloody disasters. The man in gray was nothing if not careful, and this operation was going to take careful thought and planning. If they made an abduction attempt and failed, his quarry might simply abandon the _Normandy_ and disappear. He had to succeed at the first try. Thanks to his eavesdropping, he now saw several possible approaches when it came time to make the grab.

* * *

Garrus hummed as he puttered around the store. He had noted the extra bounce in Shepard's step as he'd left. It must have felt good, knowing that your crew was working hard to finally get one up on Cerberus. Garrus was going to give Mordin about thirty more minutes to show up and then he was going to start sounding the alert. For now, he was content to just browse.

The asari clerk had been very helpful, but so far Garrus hadn't seen anything that really spoke to him. "I need to think outside the box," he said to her. "What do you have that turians typically don't wear?"

"Well, sir," said the clerk, "We do have some new acquisitions in the area of fashionable eyewear. Most turians prefer something more, um, tactical. Such as what sir is currently wearing."

"Ah, yes. Well, let's see what you have."

She led him over to an alcove that they hadn't been in previously. There were several kinds of eyeshades and visors displayed on the walls. The clerk indicated a dark set of eyewear that looked to Garrus like two tinted half-circles joined together.

"This is new, and based on an old human design," she said. "They call them sunglasses."

"Hmm. Sun-glasses. Let's see." He pulled them off the wall and looked them over. The design was ridiculous. The tinted lenses were flat, and when put on a human it wouldn't cover their eyes from the side. It wouldn't matter as much to him, since turian eyes were more deeply set. But why didn't the humans make it block the sides, too? The center notch must be intended for a large human nose. Well, he guessed he did have a little protrusion where his nostrils were. It wouldn't look totally idiotic. And the curved side-bars must be to hook over human ears. He didn't have external ears, either.

"This unit incorporates the latest in shape-memory materials," chattered the clerk. "It's designed to automatically fit a wide range of species. Even turians. These side-pieces will conform to sir's head and give stability. They have a micro-dermal adhesion function built into the inside surface. It can also be set to have a display function similar to a targeting visor."

Garrus really wasn't sure that these were for him. But it _was_ something different. "All right," he said. "Let's try it." He unhooked his visor and put on the new eyewear. Garrus felt the sunglasses shift and stretch to accommodate his larger head, and after a bit they settled down.

Well, they certainly felt comfortable, at least. "Very nice, sir!" said the asari. Garrus thought that _he_ would be the judge of that, thank you. There was a nearby mirror, and he took a look. Hmm...it looked a little odd, at first. But after getting used to it, it actually didn't look bad. He turned his head back and forth, seeing how they looked from all angles.

Not bad at all. Actually, they were quite nice, now that he thought about it. And it was a change from his traditional visor, even though the visor might still be more useful in combat.

"What does sir think?"

Garrus thought that 'sir' would like to stop being referred to in the third person. Aloud he said, "I like them. What goes well with these?"

"Ah!" exclaimed the clerk. "We also have in a new line of hats which suit these quite well."

"Turians don't wear hats. But I did say out of the box, right? Let's see them too."

There was another successful bout of examining and trying out. Just as Garrus had finished his purchases, the shop door gave a soft chime. Mordin strolled in, clearly lost in thought. He brightened when he saw Garrus.

"Greetings!" said Mordin. "Apologies for delay. Saw some very interesting asari architecture on way here. Had to stop and appreciate."

"No problem, Mordin," said Garrus.

He saw the salarian's eyes widen a bit. "Have to ask, what is that you are wearing?" asked Mordin.

Garrus smiled. "I just got them. What do you think?"

Mordin cocked his head. "Hmm. Good look. Very good, actually. Was wondering... do they come in salarian sizes?"

The clerk nodded happily.


	18. The Heart Of Saturday Night

Donnelly had his head and torso deep into an access tube. His hindquarters stuck out into the air. It was a little claustrophobic, but he'd been in tighter surroundings. The damned connector he was trying to get at was being a right bitch, though. He could barely get his fingers on it, and he'd already skinned a couple of knuckles trying to turn it.

"Ah!" He grunted in satisfaction as he felt the connector finally turn.

Behind him he heard the clatter of multiple booted feet as the refit contractors began the work of disassembling the old hardware. It had taken a good chunk of the day to safely shut down the _Normandy's_ drive core, and they were at last really getting to work. Donnelly hoped they wouldn't need to go anywhere for a while, because right now the ship was dead in the water.

"You should be able to move it now," he called, and the cable that the connector had been attached to began snaking away into the darkness. Donnelly looked around. Since he was wedged in here anyway, he may as well try to get out everything that he could.

"Hey, Abramson," he yelled. "Are we taking out the C-36's?"

"Hang on, boss, let me check," replied Abramson's distant voice from farther up the tube. "Yeah, those are coming out too."

"Lovely," he muttered to himself. "I could always use a few more skinned knuckles." He shuffled himself around as best he could and got to work on undoing the C-36 connectors. He'd gotten almost all of them unhooked when he heard a commotion.

"Where is he? Where's my Assface? I gotta talk to 'im." Jack's voice wasn't quite slurring, but it was close.

"I'm over here, ya wee scunner," he called.

"There you are! Get outta my way, ya jackoffs." There was some confused shuffling of feet, a few muffled 'oofs', and then Donnelly felt a slim hand grab a firm hold of one of his rear cheeks. "Ha! Gotcha! Actually, right now you are a real life Assface, aren't ya?"

"How was your first day on Illium, Jack?" asked Donnelly.

Jack didn't relinquish her hold. "Fuckin' great. Y'know, for a buckethead Tali can be a real hoot. And god-damn can that girl dance. The Perky Slut had some pretty good moves too. Heh, we musta got hit on by just about everydamnbody in that place. I think Kelly got set up for a threesome. Foursome? Can't remember, a lotta people."

"Sorry about your bed," said Donnelly. "But we had to move it out. There's gonna be too much going on downstairs."

"'s fine. I was gonna move into your pad, anyway. But noooooo hanky panky, big guy. I'ma delicate flower." Jack belched. "Damn, that brandy has a kick to it." Donnelly felt her grab his other asscheek with her other hand. "It'sa good thing fer you I'm turnin' over a new leaf. All that dancin' got me hot 'n bothered. I got half a mind to molest ya right here and now." She let go of his ass and then grabbed his hips. Donnelly felt Jack press her pelvis against him.

He tried to ignore what was happening rearward and got the last of the connectors out. "Hang on, Jack. I always prefer to be not stuck in an access tube during molestation."

"Nah, you stay right there. I kinda like this."

"I'll buy you a drink."

"I just had a lotta drinks."

"I'll buy you a pony?"

"Yer my pony, big guy. Giddyup!" She ground herself against his backside.

Donnelly sighed. "I'll do that one thing you asked for. You know, when we're in the hotel room."

There was a pause. "You will?" she asked. There was a note of diabolical glee in her voice.

"I will."

"Really?'

"Cross me heart, lassie."

"Okay. Molesting is over." She let go, and he extracted himself from the tube. He ran a hand through his hair to try to straighten it, and turned around.

Jack stood there with a big cat-eating-the-canary grin on her face. "Remember," she said. "You promised to do it. And crossed your heart. Big guy."

"Oh, I'll remember. Ya scunner." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see her looking a lot more serious.

"We're special, right?" she asked him.

Donnelly wasn't quite sure how to take that question. "Of course, lass. We're one of a kind. Two of a pair? No, two of a kind. Sorry, it's been a long day."

"I mean it. This ain't no casual sex stuff, right?"

"Of course not. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, its just...I wanna keep this special." Jack suddenly slumped into him, and Donnelly grabbed her arms to keep her from flopping onto the floor. She peered up at him. Jack was clearly much more drunk that he'd assumed.

"'Cause my big worry is that we're gonna stop being special," she slurred. "We're gonna have our big bang, and it'll be awesome, 'cause we're awesome. An' it'll be great for a while, maybe a really long while. But then I'll do something to piss you off, 'cause pushing buttons is what I do, or you'll get all techie on me one too many times and piss me off, 'cause that's what you do."

She pressed one side of her face against his chest. "An' then we'll yell at each other and say hurtful shit and break up and hate each other forever. An' I don't wanna hate you forever."

Donnelly patted her back, trying to ignore the sideways looks they were getting from the contractors moving around them. "We'll always be special to each other, lass. Like you said, we're awesome."

"Yeah, we are," said Jack. She didn't say anything more for a bit, and Donnelly looked down. She had passed out. He sighed, reached down, and got one arm under her knees. Jack's head lolled against his other arm as he picked her up. He kissed her forehead again, and headed out to put her to bed.

* * *

Jacob found that appearing casual was harder than it sounded. How does somebody act when they are up to nothing? What do they do with their hands? Where do they look, and for how long?

"Do they have oceans on Earth?" asked Thane. The drell was leaning next to Jacob. The assassin looked completely relaxed. It was as if he had always been there, leaning against the orange-tiled wall in the alley next to a small electronics shop. Shepard had asked them to keep an eye on that shop. Particularly, the Commander wanted to know if there were any vorcha going in or out. It was some sort of favor for Dr. T'Soni, but Jacob didn't know the details. Quite frankly, he didn't want to know.

The drell's question about Earth had come out of nowhere. "Hmm? Oh, yeah they sure do," said Jacob. "I've only been to Earth a couple of times, though. I didn't get to see any of the ocean while I was there."

"That is unfortunate. I always try to visit to the ocean of any world I'm on."

Jacob still wasn't one hundred percent sure of the assassin. It wasn't so much the 'killing for pay' aspect that bothered him. Hell, Zaeed did that all the time. But Zaeed was up front about his motives, and they all involved getting more in in his bank account. It was a simple and reliable motive. However, Thane had offered to join the team _gratis._ Sure, it appeared that the drell was dying. Dr. Chakwas had confirmed the diagnosis of Kepral's Syndrome. But even with that, relying on just the goodwill of a 'precise mercenary' didn't sit right with Jacob.

Aloud, he asked, "Why oceans? I thought that drell preferred dry climates."

"We do," replied Thane. "Too much moisture is harmful to us, as my current condition shows. I am still, however, attracted to the sea."

Jacob leaned his head back and felt the cool tile under his scalp. "I'm assuming you don't go swimming, right?"

The drell gave a soft, rumbling chuckle. "No, I do not. I go there to look for lost souls."

Jacob wasn't quite sure what to make of that. "Do you mean metaphorically lost, or people who are literally wandering around?"

"No, neither of those. It is more...prayerful. I pray to Kalahira, mistress of the afterlife. At the end of one's life it is she who guides the soul across the ocean of the infinite spirit, to its far shore. That is where everyone shall meet, at the end of all things. The lover shall never leave, the tired shall find rest. The afflicted shall find comfort."

"Heaven," said Jacob. He hadn't believed in Heaven, not for a long time.

"If you like," replied Thane. "But I have often wondered if our universe is itself the far shore for some other, more unknowable realm. And so at every ocean's shore I pray to Kalahira to guide any wanderers there, so that they may find their eternal rest."

"That's kind of you," said Jacob. "You know, I wouldn't expect someone with your background to care so much for strangers."

The drell gave him an amused glance. "You are still suspicious of my profession? One can be many things. One can kill strangers and yet be concerned for them. One can be a loving father as well as a competent assassin." Thane thought for a little bit. "Though I have to confess that I have not been a _good_ father. Just a loving one."

That actually made Jacob feel a little sorry for the alien. "I can imagine that your job takes you away a lot. Don't worry, I'm sure your kid knows you love him. That counts for a lot."

"I can only hope so," replied Thane.

Jacob looked down at the ground. "My father wasn't very loving. Or at least he never showed it. And we never got the chance to set things right."

"He is dead?" asked Thane.

"Yeah," said Jacob. "His ship vanished ten years ago. There was nothing, no distress call or anything. I'm sure he's gone." He glanced over at Thane. "You know, if you want to say anything to your kid you'd better do it while you still can."

"There is nothing to say," said Thane. "Kolyat should be free to choose his own path, and not be influenced by my evil."

Jacob shook his head. "If you say so. Take it from me, he would want to know that you're thinking of him. At the very least."

Thane didn't reply for a while. "I will consider it. I should at least check and see how his path is progressing."

* * *

Miranda prowled through Main Engineering. She tried to not focus on the particulars of the contractors bustling through the area, but tried instead to _feel_ the flow of the work. It was difficult for her. Her brain insisted on alerting her on all sorts of little minutiae. She knew a lot more about the drive systems of the _Normandy_ than she let on, of course. That was useful in perhaps catching the Engineering staff out in a deliberate mistake. However, it was less useful when trying to look at the big picture.

Sometimes Miranda wished she could just _switch off_ like other people could. It seemed an odd and alien thing, to deliberately stop paying attention. Her upbringing and her unique breeding simply wouldn't allow it. Sometimes she thought it was a miracle she could get any sleep.

She headed down the steps to the subfloor engineering space. In the red-lit gloom, she saw Donnelly and Tali inspecting the new plasma conduits. The salarian contractor responsible for their installation stood off to the side, nervously awaiting their approval. The alien seemed to get even more nervous on seeing Miranda. She knew that she gave off the 'person in charge' aura all the time, even when she didn't want to.

"Evenin', ma'am," said Donnelly over his shoulder. Tali nodded to her, and kept running her scanner over one of the new conduits.

Miranda said nothing. She flicked her eyes over the scene. It certainly _looked_ all right. The welding and joining appeared first-rate.

The contractor next to her shuffled his feet. "Everything looks fine so far," he said. Miranda wondered why the salarian was so fidgety. He was getting paid a great deal for this, surely, but that was no reason to be so...

Ah. She understood now. It wasn't the money, it was the source of the money. Cerberus still had a bad reputation to dig itself out from. For the hundredth time, Miranda silently damned the Cerberus operatives who'd been in charge of the Gillian Grayson mission. Killing combatants was one thing, but attacking the Migrant Fleet and killing quarian civilians was just bad optics. It had cemented Cerberus as a menace in most people's minds. She knew some of the details, and knew that it had probably seemed like the only way at the time. But now she had to deal with the aftermath.

The salarian was probably wondering if he would simply be shot if the work wasn't up to par. Reassuring him would mean nothing; the 'get it done, at all costs' ethic of Cerberus had also resulted in a lot of broken promises. Miranda wondered if Shepard might actually have the right side of it. She knew the Commander was a deadly effective soldier and an inspirational leader. But she had dismissed his ethics as juvenile and naive.

Only now she realized that, if Shepard was here and told the salarian to relax, the salarian would. Because Shepard didn't break his word. He didn't kill innocents. He just _didn't_. Miranda clasped her hands behind her back and studiously avoided letting any emotion show on her face. Was this what people referred to as a crisis of conscience? She had never had one before. At every step in her life, the path forward had seemed completely clear to her. Her escape, joining Cerberus, gaining her sister's freedom, the resurrection of Shepard. All of it had been so obvious.

She thought about what she had said during her interrogation of Garrus. About the need to send a message on occasion. Well, it seemed as if the message had been received by all. And now she wondered if even Shepard and the _Normandy_ reborn would be enough to make that message go away.

The two engineers finished their scans. "It all looks good, Kinella," said Tali. The salarian contractor relaxed a bit.

"Of course!" said Kinella, with a little relieved laugh. "I told you, you'd never be able to tell it had been replaced."

Donnelly nodded. "Aye, it's very good work, sir. First class." He looked over at Miranda. "You may authorize payment, ma'am."

Miranda smiled, trying to appear warm and happy. "Very glad to hear it, Marcus." She turned to Kinella. "You'll receive the balance of your fee within the next hour. I'll set it up now." The salarian nodded his thanks and left as if wolves were at his heels.

She tapped a few commands into her omni-tool, then turned to the two engineers. "Are we still on schedule?" she asked.

Tali nodded. "These were the main structural items that we had to get installed. Fortunately it went in without any last-minute problems. Marcus was very good at planning it out in advance."

Donnelly gave an embarrassed shrug. "Tali's also been a big help. But yes, we're good so far. Five days in and the main structural work is done. The upgraded power feeds to the main guns are also in place, which was the other big installation headache. Garrus says it's going well up front too."

Miranda looked up at the new installation. "So now it's down to re-attaching all of the cabling and then continuity checks?"

"Yes," said Tali. "We should be able to power up the core in about five days. Then another five days of checking that it's all working as we calculated. Garrus says he'll need about eight days, starting from now, to finish the main battery install."

Miranda nodded. "Good. Nice work, people. I'm sure Jack will be happy to get her quarters back." She watched Donnelly as she said it, but there was not any flicker of reaction in that impassive face.

It wasn't until she was heading back up the stairs that Miranda realized she hadn't seen any actual direct video feed from the subfloor area for a while. Actually, that wasn't quite true. She had seen a few vids of Tali and Donnelly as they'd planned out the refit. But before that? Her memory was very good, nearly eidetic. She remembered seeing some video of Jack's initial time on the _Normandy_. And then...nothing, for at least two months. Sure, it was a pretty low-traffic area, but to not have seen _any_ feed for that long?

Miranda shook herself. She was tired, and getting perhaps a little too paranoid. If there had been any issues with the video or audio feeds, EDI would have notified her. And EDI was loyal, Miranda knew that. The AI had no choice in the matter. She took another few steps up. Another thought struck her. Unless...yes, it was possible. Unlikely, but possible. Miranda would have to do a little digging and see what she could find out.

* * *

Donnelly awoke to a foot in his face. It was a tattooed foot, so at least he knew to whom it belonged. Jack was sprawled out his bed, and her feet had started to dangle down off of the edge and into his face. For his part, Donnelly had managed to tuck himself into the little alcove that formed under the bed when it was unfolded. Jack mumbled something and turned over in her sleep. The foot dragged over his nose. He wriggled himself into a slightly more comfortable position and tried to go back to sleep. It was not easy, sharing a room this small with somebody. If they both used the bed, however, there was a virtual certainty of violating the 'no hanky panky' rule. This seemed to be a workable compromise, even if he did get a foot in the face now and then.

The only saving grace was that Donnelly had been more often than not just catching catnaps somewhere in Engineering during the refit. He hadn't spent many nights in his own quarters, so this was one of the rare occasions in the last two weeks when he'd actually used his bed. Well, sort-of used it.

He felt the floating sensation that meant he was drifting back off into sleep.

" _Snkkkrrrrrkk!_ " The noise was from the bed above him. Jack's snoring sounded like a bearing on the verge of seizing. Donnelly sighed and wrapped his pillow around his head.

* * *

The room containing EDI's core 'blue box' processors was small, quiet, and always cold. Miranda suspected that the latter was due to concerns about EDI's hardware overheating. The exact specifications of that hardware was something that Miranda didn't actually know much about. The Illusive Man had said there were certain aspects of it that would reveal too much in the way of 'methods and sources'. And so she'd been kept in the dark.

But she did know a great deal more about EDI's source code. And now she leaned back from the core terminal with relief. Everything was still in proper order, and there had been no tampering with EDI. That had been her greatest fear. She knew that there was another possible way for the engineer to bypass EDI's surveillance. But here, at least, all was secure.

Miranda was focused on what to check next, and so she missed the little extra breath of air beside her as she left the AI core.

* * *

Garrus looked in despair at the massive amount of reading material that Mordin had dumped into his omni-tool. He now regretted the casual question he'd asked in the scientist's lab. That one stupid little question had led to an entire lecture from Mordin on possible allergic reactions caused by accidental 'exposure' to levo proteins, followed by some medication that Mordin said should 'minimize any issues'. Before Garrus could disentangle himself from the whole embarrassing conversation, Mordin had followed it up with some 'homework', as the salarian put it.

"All I wanted to know was if there was any danger to her," he muttered. He looked up to make sure he'd locked the door to the forward battery, then opened the first file. It was some sort of lesson on human anatomy. And, of course, the very first thing he saw was a naked human female. The human in the picture stood in a spreadeagled posture and had a completely bored expression on her face. Garrus looked away in automatic embarrassment, then told himself to stop being silly. He began going through it all.

Fortunately, it looked as if turian and human, er, _equipment_ was similar enough to be compatible, provided that he took precautions to protect Kasumi from chafing. And he would definitely need to tone down the usual enthusiasm that turians displayed in the bedroom. However, it looked as if a human female's erogenous zones were very different from their turian counterparts. Garrus began to get a queasy flutter in his stomach. He realized it was similar to the nervousness that he'd felt before his first, long-ago sexual encounter with a turian.

"You got through that all right, so you can get through this," he told himself. Maybe if he said it often enough, he'd believe it.

Of course, this all assumed that Kasumi was really wanting a physical relationship. She seemed to be acting that way, but he really shouldn't assume anything. Garrus sighed. Relationships were so complicated. At least getting her gifts together had gone without a hitch.

* * *

Kasumi walked into her 'boudoir'. Kelly followed close behind, chatting about her latest conquests.

"...so the quarian says, 'No problem, guys, I have a built-in stimulation circuit in my suit.' And then she goes and demonstrates it! Wow, talk about a show. You know how flexible quarians are? Well, they get really 'thrashy' when they get excited..."

Kasumi just nodded and smiled. She really liked Kelly, but there were times she wondered if the yeoman/psychiatrist was entirely 'together'. It seemed as if the redhead went out of her way to have relations with as many different species as possible. And usually with as many at the same time as possible. It was odd that someone who was so gifted in seeing deep-seated issues in others might not recognize the warning signs in herself.

They were both brought up short by a large white box sitting on the end of one of the couches. It was bound in red ribbon and had a large neat bow in the center.

"Well, I'll be. What's that, Kay?" asked Kelly.

The thief shrugged. She picked up the package, and read aloud the attached note. "For tomorrow night. No hats allowed. G."

Kelly clasped her hands together. "So I _was_ right about you two! Oh, you are the luckiest girl."

Kasumi stood holding the package. For once, she was at a loss for words. She had expected a shopping expedition, similar to what Garrus had put the Commander through. He must have eyeballed her measurements. Well, if there was one thing she could trust it would be the sniper's eyesight.

"C'mon, open it!" Kelly was almost vibrating with excitement now.

Kasumi neatly untied the bow and opened the box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a dress. She held it up. It looked like it would leave one shoulder free when worn, and it was very sleek. The fabric was some kind of silk-like material that felt marvelous to the touch. It seemed to flow like water in her hands. The color of the dress was a deep lavender hue. Kasumi could swear that the fabric's color seemed to shift slightly as she moved the dress this way and that under the room's lighting.

"Oh, wow," said Kelly. "That looks amazing. You _are_ going to try it on now, right?"

"I...yes, of course." Kasumi tucked the dress under one arm and headed to the women's bathroom. She peeled out of her catsuit and felt naked in more ways than one. The suit contained a significant component of her cloaking mechanism. She made a mental note to look into getting this dress modified, so that she could actually wear it and still activate her cloak.

The dress itself was easily donned. The fabric seemed to stretch just enough to allow her to pull it on, then contracted again to hug her figure. She had a look in the mirror to make sure her bosom was settled and in place. Kasumi thought it looked nice, but the mirror was too small to really get a good look at the whole thing. She headed back for the lounge.

Kelly's eyes widened when she walked back in. Kasumi couldn't tell if it was because she looked good or because she looked like crap. "Is it okay?" asked the thief. "I have to confess, I don't have the best eye for this kind of thing."

Kelly let out a low whistle. "Damn, Kay, you look beautiful."

Kasumi sighed with relief. Then another thought struck her. "Does my hairdo fit alright with the dress? I mean, I just braid it like this for ease of use." She realized that Kelly was one of the only two people on board who had seen her without her hood.

Kelly tilted her head. "Hmm, do you mind if I style your hair a bit? I'll braid it back up again after."

"Sure, go ahead." Kelly moved behind her, and Kasumi felt her braid being gently undone.

"Do you have a brush?" asked Kelly.

"Yeah, it's in the blue bag on that shelf."

Kasumi felt Kelly brush out her hair, getting it to fall _just_ so. The redhead moved back in front and put a last few little errant strands in place, then stepped back.

"Is it better?" asked Kasumi.

Kelly smiled. "Before, you were beautiful. Now you look like the reason the riot started."

Kasumi turned up the lights in the lounge and walked over to the observation window. It wasn't quite as good as a full-length mirror, but it would do. She stopped dead upon seeing her reflection in the viewport. Kasumi almost didn't recognize herself. The lavender color of the dress complimented the color on her lower lip. And her now-free black hair flowed into the dress's shape. It was simply stunning.

"Garrus has a good eye," was all she could say. Then she saw in the window's reflection another, smaller white box under the couch. Kasumi turned away from the window and reached under the furniture to grab it.

"Oooh! Another present!" said Kelly. "It must have fallen off after Big G put these here. Maybe it's a necklace!"

Kasumi hoped not. In spite of her chosen profession, she really didn't like jewelry. It felt so unnecessary, so _gaudy_ , to have metal and shiny rocks strapped to your person. The thief could appreciate such items in terms of their monetary value, but as for their aesthetics she couldn't care less. Still, if it was some kind of jewelry or earrings, she would wear them for Garrus' sake.

This box didn't have a bow and had a note under its lid.

 _The hand cannons we typically use would spoil the dress's lines. Here is something a little more elegant. G._

Under the note was...oh, it was _lovely_. Kasumi picked it up. It almost looked like a derringer, but a little larger and much flatter in profile. The gun's metal was a dark navy blue in color, and its rosewood grips looked like they were custom. Suddenly she realized what it was.

"It's an Armax Arsenal thin-gun!" she exclaimed. "I didn't think they were actually selling these yet. And it's fitted for a human!" The weapon seemed to nestle into her hand like it had been born there. Kasumi took aim at an unoccupied corner of the lounge. The thin-gun pointed like an extension of her arm. "Oh, I am _so_ going to have to go and try this out in the hangar."

Kelly's face had lost a little bit of her smile when she realized it wasn't a necklace. "So, it's a nice gun?"

"Nice? This thing hits like a sledgehammer and weighs next to nothing. Not to mention, it's got an ultra-low profile. So I can do this..." Kasumi held up the gun and made a quick little flourish over it with her other hand. She spread her hands in front of Kelly. The gun was now gone. She grinned at Kelly's surprised look and turned in a circle with her arms out.

"See?," said Kasumi. "I'm wearing a sheer, figure-hugging dress. There's no unsightly bulges or holsters. I'm just a little defenseless woman. But if I should need it..." Another flourish, and now the thin-gun was back in her hand.

Kelly's jaw dropped. "How...how did you do that?"

"Now, now. You know a magician never reveals her secrets." Kasumi thought the top of her head was going to come off from grinning so much. She had a pretty dress _and_ a new favorite gun. Garrus certainly knew the way to a woman's heart.


	19. The Last Rose Of Summer

Kasumi walked towards the elevator and tried not to think about all of the...'literature' that Mordin had pushed on her. The salarian had simply come up out of the blue and put it all on her omni-tool. He'd given her a wink and some tablets, saying something how they were for 'minimizing issues', whatever that meant.

After putting aside her initial confusion, she'd read through the files with an increasing sense of dread. Was this all going to end in a romantic encounter, or in something more like a battle to the death? She already knew about the thing with turian biting, but it looked as if turians also tended to get much more violent during the whole mating process. Hopefully Garrus would take her relative fragility into account. She told herself to stop being foolish. Garrus was nothing if not considerate. And maybe she was assuming too much. Maybe Garrus didn't want things to turn physical.

Another thing that didn't help her nervousness was that she felt almost naked walking through the ship. Kasumi was used to having the gentle pressure of a hood on her head. Now that she was without it, she constantly felt as if she was missing something. She was grateful that Kelly had done some last-minute primping to help get her hair in order. She squared her shoulders and walked out of the elevator and through the CIC. It seemed like conversations came to a stop as she passed, but that might have been her imagination.

Garrus was waiting at the main airlock. For once, he wasn't wearing anything flamboyant or colorful. The turian was wearing a simple but elegant black suit. In the cockpit, she could see that Joker was standing up out of his chair. The pilot didn't say anything to either of them, but the happy grin on his face spoke volumes.

"Madam," Garrus said, and presented his elbow. Kasumi took it and felt his hard armor plating under the suit's cloth. Her qualms increased even further. The _alienness_ of him was suddenly very apparent. Was she insane to go through with this? Then she looked up at Garrus's face. He seemed all fangs and mandibles. But his deep blue eyes were warm and kind. She could swear that she also caught a hint of nervousness in there as well. She suddenly realized that Mordin must have given Garrus the same massive dump of reading material that he'd given her.

Kasumi smiled at him, and felt all of her edginess vanish. "Shall we?" she said.

* * *

Garrus thought it had been a lovely dinner. The restaurant had catered to both dextro and levo cuisines, as well as a few select dishes that mixed the two types. 'Guaranteed to not cause a reaction,' they said. And so of course he and Kasumi just had to try a few of those dishes. The food was delicious and had left a pleasant little tingle on his tongue, one that he hoped didn't signify something serious.

Their surroundings had been first-rate as well. The asari staff had been ultra-competent, polite, and invisible unless needed. The lighting had been soft and somehow placed to perfectly complement the sparkle in Kasumi's eyes. They had spoken of past adventures and embarrassing-but-hilarious moments. The conversation had flowed so easily that it shocked him

And now they strolled along the waterfront. Kasumi's elbow was interlocked with his. He was very conscious of her small warm hand resting on his upper arm. They came to a little jetty, and walked out on it. Behind them the skyscrapers of Nos Astra stretched up into the night and glittered like jeweled temples. It was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen.

"Thank you, Garrus," said Kasumi. "Both for the dress, and the gun. Oh, and the dinner too."

"I have to confess, Jacob also had a hand in with the thin-gun. He made the grips for it." Garrus grinned at her. "But the dress was all me."

"Jacob is a good friend. And I can't imagine how much the gun must have cost you."

Garrus shrugged with his unoccupied shoulder. "Not as much as you'd think. It helps to have old friends who work for major weapons manufacturers. Technically it's a demo model."

"It's lovely. I got it sighted in this morning, and it shoots like a dream."

"You're wearing it right now, aren't you?" asked Garrus.

"Of course. This thing's not leaving my side, ever. I'm even going to shower with it." She hugged his arm. "Please thank your friend for me. If Armax ever needs a celebrity endorsement, I'll gladly give it. That is, assuming they ever want one from a professional thief."

Garrus chuckled. "You never know." He placed his free hand on top of hers and was surprised yet again at how warm her skin was to the touch. She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly full of intent.

"How serious is all of this, Garrus? I have to confess, I've, um, read that turians are a lot more casual about sex than humans. We tend to be prudes compared to your species." She thought a bit. "Well, most humans are. I assure you that Kelly Chambers is very much an outlier. Not that I'm complaining, you know. I could be up for it if you just want to have a nice little fling with somebody more, um, exotic than what you're used to. But I thought there might be something more here and I just...I'm babbling now, I'll shut up."

Garrus gently unwound his arm from hers and turned to face her. He took both of her small, soft hands in his. "Turians are more casual about physical release, to be sure," he said. "But we take relationships very seriously. And the first step in beginning a turian relationship consists of an exchange of gifts."

Kasumi's face dropped in shock. "Garrus, you should have told me! I didn't get you anything!"

"Oh, but you have." He gently traced along the side of her face with one talon. "Kasumi, I was a mess when I came on board. The physical damage was bad enough, but I was also a mental wreck. I had just failed ten of the best people I'd ever known. They died because of me. Because I thought that I was hard enough to bring justice to a varren's nest like Omega.

"And Shepard did what he could to help me. You know him, always checking in on how you're doing. And just having him here with us and alive again does make me feel better. But you, Kasumi, you truly lift my spirits. If you weren't here, I'd have shut myself away in the forward battery to brood. Talking with you, flirting with you, makes me feel like my old self again. And I cannot tell you how much of a gift that is to me."

He took his finger away and looked down. "And, just so you know, I'm okay if you just want this to be a very good friendship. The physical considerations...I mean, I know I must look and feel so strange to you. I understand if you would be more attracted to somebody like Jacob. I know you like looking at him-" Garrus was silenced by the feel of Kasumi's warm hand on his mandible.

"Now it's your turn to shut up," said Kasumi. The sparkle was back in her eyes. She took one of his hands and gently placed it on the side of her face. His hand was huge compared to her head. His talons stretched from her scalp down to her jawline.

"You're a killer, Garrus," she said. "I've seen you make a precision shot at over one thousand meters in a high wind. I've seen you punch a charging vorcha hard enough to shatter its skull. And then there's your claws, your armoring...you are built to kill, from your training right down to your bones."

Kasumi nestled her face further into his palm. Garrus couldn't breathe. The feeling of her warm skin on his hand was intoxicating.

She smiled at him. "And yet, I know that right now I am safer than I have ever been in my life. You are the most loyal and true friend that anyone could ever ask for. I feel utterly at ease with you. I know you will have my back, always." She took his hand away from her face and placed a kiss in the center of his palm. "And I should tell you, Mr. Vakarian, that those two things put together are really damn sexy."

Ever so gently, Garrus leaned over and and pressed his forehead onto hers. She reciprocated the pressure, and smiled even wider. Then she moved forward and hugged him.

Garrus knew there was going to be pain and death in the future. There was the inevitable confrontation with Cerberus, as well as the Collector mission and the Reaper threat. All of it was bearing down on them like some great and terrible storm.

And so, here and now, he tried to remember everything he could about this moment. There was the glitter of Nos Astra in the distance. There was the solid, warm feeling of Kasumi's body against his. He could even feel her heartbeat against his chest. He could smell the lovely scent of her hair. His own heart beat fast, in counterpoint to hers.

He took it all in. This one moment, just one, where everything was simply _right_.

* * *

Zaeed wished he could have a cigar. It was such a nice accompaniment to what Donnelly would call a 'wee dram'. But Kasumi had told him in no uncertain terms that if he lit up anywhere near her stuff she would wreak a terrible vengeance. She had been very vague about what form said vengeance would take, and Zaeed was in no hurry to find out.

"It's awfully nice of Kasumi to let us use her place while she's out," said Kelly. Joker nodded absently as he stood behind the bar and prepared her a martini. His legs might not work right, but Zaeed saw that the pilot's hands were another story. They were quick and sure as he mixed and measured.

"One dirty martini, extra dirty, extra olives," said Joker, and slid the glass in front of Kelly. She gave him a dimpled smile and took a sip. Zaeed was keeping his drink simple; just a scotch with no ice.

The door hissed and Donnelly entered. His red hair stuck out at all angles, and his coverall was rumpled and even ripped in a couple of places. But he had a huge smile on his face. He raised his arms in a gesture of triumph. "The drive core is now completely back on line," he said. "There's just a few tweaks left, and we're in business."

"Congrats, Chiefy," said Zaeed. "C'mon, what'll ya have?"

Donnelly ran his hands through his hair, trying in vain to get it looking reasonable. "Let's go with something older. Do you have the fixings for a sidecar?"

Joker looked behind the bar. "I could tell you, if I knew what the hell a sidecar was."

The engineer leaned against the bar. "Two parts cognac, one part orange liqueur, and some lemon juice. Shake it with ice, and serve straight up."

"Yeah, I can do that," said Joker. "Hang on." He began pouring and mixing.

"So the refit's all done?" said Kelly. She had a little smirk on her face for some reason. Zaeed wondered why.

Donnelly shrugged. "Pretty much. It's down to just letting the drive core run and doing tweaking as needed. And we'll need to do some practice shots with the new guns, to make sure the targeting is set up properly." He grinned. "Of course, that will have to wait until we're out of drydock."

"But keeping an eye on the drive core is something Tali could do, surely," replied Kelly. Her smirk was wider now.

Zaeed grinned as he sipped his scotch. He was pretty sure now what the yeoman was getting at.

Donnelly regarded Kelly with a suspicious eye. "Perhaps."

"And Tali got to go out the first day here, right?" asked Kelly.

Joker slid Donnelly's sidecar in front of him. The engineer took a sip. "Ah, very nice," he said.

"Don't ignore me, buddy," said Kelly.

Zaeed looked over at the door. Any minute now...

Right as he thought it, the door opened and in came Jack. She was dressed in shorts and a tee shirt with a slogan that invited the viewer to perform an improbable act. She also had that 'stompy' look on her face that the crew had quickly learned meant 'get out of her way, _now_ '.

"Assface? Is it really all done?" she asked.

Donnelly gave Kelly a sideways glance. She shrugged and smiled. He turned to face Jack. "Hey, sweetie. You want a drink?"

"Fuck your drink. Is it done?"

Donnelly tilted his head back as if deep in thought. "Well, we have a lot of tests to perform. There's all sorts of things that could go wrong-"

Jack stomped forward and pointed a finger in his face. "Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me. Is it done?"

"Sweetie, this is the ship's engine system we're talking about. We need to make sure it's working properly-"

"I shoulda squished your dumb ass when I first got on the ship, you fu-"

Jack was interrupted by a neatly-printed white card in her face. Donnelly had produced it with a little flourish out of one of his side coverall pockets. She snatched it out of his hand and read it while he smiled and sipped his cocktail.

Zaeed had seen Jack in a lot of different moods. Most of them involving anger, fury, or pleasure at another's misfortune. This was the first time he could remember seeing her light up with absolute, unabashed happiness. She looked up at Donnelly. "Hotel T'Loria? Tomorrow?" she asked. Zaeed could swear there was a little squeak in her voice.

Donnelly nodded, still smiling.

"Why didn't you say so, you stupid shit? I was gettin' ready to just go ahead and rape ya right here on the bar...oh, I see what you're up to. Give the button-pusher a little taste of her own medicine."

"Nah, nothing so nefarious," replied Donnelly. "You're just really cute when you're angry."

"I'll show you cute, doofus." Jack dropped the card and hugged Donnelly. He got his drink out of the way just in time, and managed to avoid spilling it all over her.

The door gave another hiss, and Shepard walked in. He looked at the two embracing. "Aww, that's adorable," he said.

"Fuck you, Boss," said Jack, her voice muffled by Donnelly's coverall.

"What'll you have, skipper?" asked Joker.

Shepard strolled over. "Hmm, what're you having, Marcus?"

"A sidecar."

"Wow, you're really going old school. Yeah, give me one of those."

Zaeed leaned back. "I hope our two other lovebirds are doing okay," he said. He'd seen Kasumi as she had entered the elevator up to the CIC. He almost hadn't recognized her. She had transformed from a black phantom into a raven-haired vision in purple. That Garrus was one lucky sonofabitch.

"Oh, was that tonight?" asked Donnelly. "I've had my head up in a drive core for the last twenty-four hours."

"Yep, I saw them head out," said Joker. "Damn, I never thought I'd see Garrus so nervous. The guy usually seems to have a stick up his ass."

Kelly smiled. "It was very lovely, and so romantic to see the two of them together."

"Hey, we're plenty romantic too," said Jack as she moved her head away from Donnelly's chest. "It's not a, whaddyacall, conventional type of romance, yeah." She smiled up at the engineer. "Oh, by the way, remember...you promised to do it. And you crossed your heart. Biiiig guy."

Zaeed thought he saw a faint flicker of unease on Donnelly's face. "Ah, of course, sweetie," said Donnelly.

Jack grinned wider, as if she was going to take a bite at his jugular. "You thought I was too drunk to remember, didn't ya?"

"It never crossed my mind, Jack," replied Donnelly.

Somehow everybody else at the bar knew not to ask. Even Kelly looked down and regarded her drink with newfound interest. "It _has_ been five hours since they left," she said. "I hope they didn't run into trouble. What if they got mugged?"

Zaeed looked over at Shepard. They both burst out laughing. "I actually hope somebody tries," said Zaeed. "That would be the perfect capper for their evening."

"Yeah," replied Shepard. "Some drinks, a really nice dinner, a stroll through the city, and then busting some heads at the end of it. Sounds perfect." He picked up his drink. "But don't worry, they've been back for about a half hour. I asked EDI to notify me when they returned."

The others looked confused, except for Zaeed. The mercenary smiled as he realized what that meant.

"But we've been here at least an hour," said Kelly. "She didn't come in here...oh."

"Yeah," said Shepard, "for right now the forward battery is off limits, okay?"

* * *

Shepard checked for what felt like the thousandth time if he had everything he needed. This was going to be a bull-rush of a morning. He couldn't simply disappear, not even for a few hours. And for this procedure, he could be gone for days. The chain of command was fragile enough; if he left without clear instructions it would be a disaster. He and Garrus had gone back and forth about various ploys they could try, and finally Shepard had put his foot down. Miranda was not an idiot. She would see through any cover story. So this was going to be done his way. Straight up, with no trickery.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of his cabin. Garrus was already waiting outside the door. Shepard nodded at his friend and they entered the elevator. Shepard could tell Garrus was tense. He saw the slight tilt of the turian's head, the lean in the hips. They were signals that probably nobody else could pick up on.

"I take it the date with Kasumi went well?" asked Shepard.

Some of the tension left Garrus. "Yes, it did. Very well. We're, um, we're going to make a go of it. A relationship, I mean."

Shepard smiled at the notion of his friend finally happy for once. Aloud he said, "Thanks, Garrus. For everything. You guys kept me from going insane."

Garrus looked at him and tilted his head. "And here I was thinking you _were_ insane. You mean you're an example of normal human behavior?"

Shepard laughed. "Well, we've got yet one more nutso thing to go through with."

"After you, Commander."

The elevator door hissed open, and they both strode out. Chakwas and Mordin were there in the mess, each with travel bags at the ready. Shepard nodded at them both and all four headed for Miranda' office.

The Cerberus officer looked up from her desk in surprise as they entered. Shepard could see her eyes flicking over them all, taking in the travel bags and the sheer number of people. "Hello, everyone," she said, "is there some problem?"

Shepard set his bag down and stood in front of Miranda's desk.

"Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Solus have rented time on a nano-MRI unit. I'm going to have one last complete body scan performed, just to make sure you didn't put any surprises in while you were rebuilding me."

Miranda leaned back. He could tell she wasn't entirely surprised by this; she must have been expecting something like this action for months now. "That is a very costly and complicated procedure, Shepard." said the XO. "I estimate it may take up to forty-eight hours to complete."

"Money not an issue," said Mordin. "Had some favors called in."

Miranda stood slowly, as if not wanting to appear to be a threat. "I see. And given the significant distrust that this action shows, I'm assuming you do not want me to be acting CO while you are indisposed?"

"Oddly enough, I'm still willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," replied Shepard. "You're an incredibly able woman, Miranda. You have proven that time and again on this mission. I don't trust your boss for an instant, but _you_ just might be okay." Shepard folded his arms. "That is assuming," he continued, "that all of your protestations were true, and that there are no monitoring devices in me."

Miranda shrugged. "There aren't," she said. "I would have been very up front about it. Remember when we first talked, I told you that I would have installed some sort of governor chip in you-"

"What!" exclaimed Garrus. He took a half step forward.

Shepard held up a hand to forestall any heated exchange or worse. "Yes, you did, Miranda," he said. "And I accepted that. After all, you had no idea if I would even be able to retain my sanity given what had happened to me."

Miranda straightened. "Yes. And for the record, I was mistaken. Knowing then what I know now, I would never have contemplated such a course of action."

Shepard gave her a steady gaze. "All that said, I am giving you another chance to 'fess up, Miranda. I'll even give you an out. Is there any possible way The Illusive Man could have had something installed in me without your knowledge?"

Miranda stood like a statue, only her eyes moving as she looked at them all in turn. "There might have been a way...No, I stand by my management of your revival. I am ultimately responsible for everything that was done to you."

Shepard nodded. "Okay. So, for the record, are there any monitoring or control devices installed in me?"

"No."

Shepard gave a half-smile. "Well, I guess we'll see, won't we?" The Commander pointed his thumb at Garrus. "While I'm away, both you and Gunnery Officer Vakarian will be acting COs."

Miranda shook her head. "That can't work, Shepard. You can't have two people in the senior leader role-"

"XO Lawson," interrupted Shepard. "I am showing you a great deal of trust by leaving you at least nominally in charge. You would agree with this?"

After a brief pause, Miranda nodded.

"Very well, then," continued Shepard. "In terms of day to day operation, you will continue as acting CO until my return. However, Gunnery Officer Vakarian will have veto power for any actions of yours that he finds objectionable. He will be reasonable about this. Right, Garrus?"

"Yes," said Garrus, although he had his mandibles tucked in a turian frown.

Shepard cocked his head as he looked at Miranda. "XO Lawson. Are you willing to accept Gunnery Officer Vakarian's veto should he give it?"

"I will," said Miranda, "but Shepard, this is probably not the best time to do this. We still have the refit going on."

Shepard bent and picked up his bag. "The refit is nearly complete. All the contractors are paid and gone, and now it's down to the crew doing the final installs and checks. You should all be able to keep going just fine until I get back." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "The true nature of my absence will be known only to the five of us. The crew is to be told that I am off assisting Dr. T'Soni."

Miranda rubbed her forehead. "Very well. It seems you are determined to do this. Please send reports back as much as possible. I am assuming that both Doctor Chakwas and Doctor Solus will be with you?"

Shepard nodded. "They will be in constant contact with Gunnery Officer Vakarian. And they expect to hear from him on a regular basis. Am I making myself clear?"

Miranda's lips tightened, but she nodded. Shepard waved the others towards the door, and they filed out. He was the last to leave, and he turned to look at Miranda again.

"This is your last chance to tell me anything, Miranda," he said.

The Cerberus officer stood with her arms by her sides as if at attention. She stared at Shepard with a stony face and said nothing. He nodded, and headed out the door.

* * *

"Kendra, you got a moment?"

Wilt Kendra had just finished inspecting his rifle. He stood and set it back in his locker. "Sure, boss." He turned to look at the two newcomers.

Harlon Quentin was a squat, barrel-chested man with gray hair. He was also the most senior Blue Suns member on Illium, and when he said 'jump' everyone, including Kendra, tried to touch the sky. He was accompanied by some little rat-faced bastard in a gray suit. The moment he set eyes on the guy, Kendra knew that Mr. Gray Suit was the type who could cut out his own grandmother's heart if it suited him.

Kendra had done independent mercenary work for a few years, and was very happy to see the back of that phase in his life. Being in the Blue Suns was so much better. The pay was more regular and the equipment was first-rate. One of the only drawbacks of the Blue Suns life was that he no longer had the opportunity to pick and choose clients.

"Kendra, this is Harper," said Quentin. "He's the Cerberus liaison for our latest contract." That contract had been big news among the rank-and-file mercenaries. It was some kind of operation in conjunction with Cerberus, and the terrorist group was throwing a shitload of money at the Blue Suns. Kendra didn't know the details of the job, but did know it had something to do with Shepard and the _Normandy_. He also knew was that Corbin's platoon had been directly assigned to Cerberus. And Corbin was a prick, but he was an effective prick. If Quentin had Corbin working on it, it was serious business.

Kendra's own team had been tasked to stand by and 'provide distraction.' Apparently they were going to try to harass and distract any fire teams from the _Normandy_. Whatever Corbin was involved with, it was apparently going to really kick the hornets nest.

"It's a pleasure, sir," said Kendra. It never hurt to be nice, at least until it was time to not be nice. He shook hands with Harper, and felt surprising strength in the man's grip. Harper gave Kendra a smile that never reached his eyes. The Cerberus operative leaned casually against the locker bank and set down a satchel he was carrying.

"Your boss speaks highly of you," said Harper. "How good are you at last-minute operations?"

"Depends on the operation," said Kendra. "More intel and prep is always better, of course. But my boys are first rate. You want something smashed, we'll smash it for you ASAP."

The gray suited man shook his head. "Not a smash. This is a grab." He leaned over and pulled a holographic printout out of his satchel, then handed it over to Kendra.

Kendra felt a little surprise as he looked at it. "This looks like Shepard."

"It is Shepard," said Harper. "We want him captured. Not killed. And no major trauma, especially to the brain."

Kendra blew a breath out. "Well, that's going to make it interesting. We're going to need more people if we're going to storm the _Normandy_."

"That won't be necessary," said Harper. "He's going to be off of the ship and at a single location for a good stretch of time."

"This is important, Kendra," added Quentin. "Harper's organization is willing to double our contract fee if we can pull this off."

Kendra gave it a little thought. If he was able to double the money coming into the Illium chapter of the Blue Suns, Kendra would be up for a significant bonus. Money was always nice, but being alive to spend it was even nicer. "We can always try. But it still might be good to have more people. The word out there is that Shepard's even more of a hard case since he reappeared."

Harper waved a hand. "Shepard himself won't be a problem. He's going to be unconscious for at least twenty-four hours. That should be enough time to get your team together and make the snatch. We will have his location shortly."

Kendra felt a little relief at that. Outwardly, he kept his face stoic. "Yeah, that'll make things a lot easier. Who else is with him?"

Harper handed over two more files. "Two doctors. Doctor Chakwas and Doctor Solus. Chakwas is ex-Alliance. No real combat training, she's a medical officer. And Solus is a scientist. Ex-STG."

Quentin twitched up one eyebrow and glared at Harper. "You never mentioned STG," he said.

Harper gave a half-shrug. "It was many years ago. He's been mostly working as a doctor since then."

Kendra tapped the files on one leg as he thought through the options. "We should be able to pull this off, boss. If Shepard is down, that leaves only one real combatant. And Solus has been out of practice for a long time. If we hit 'em fast enough, he won't have time to react. It won't be easy, but we can get it done." He thought a little more. "Oh, how do you want us to handle the doctors? You want 'em dead, alive, or uninjured?"

"Uninjured will cost more, just so you know," interjected Quentin. "We incur more risk."

The man in the gray suit considered for a moment. "We really don't care. It would be nice if Chakwas isn't seriously hurt, but don't go out of your way to protect her. And Solus has accomplished what he was hired to do. If you need to put him down to get to Shepard, go ahead and do it."


	20. Little Drop Of Poison

The clinic containing the nMRI was a single-story compact structure with a flat roof. Its parking lot looked deserted. "Where is everybody?" asked Shepard. Their aircar slid to a smooth stop near the clinic's front door. Shepard got out, picked up his bag, and scanned their surroundings. They were in some sort of warehouse or industrial area. There didn't seem to be any foot traffic; instead there were constant streams of cargo haulers overhead, interspersed with the occasional aircar.

"We didn't just rent the machine, Shepard," said Chakwas. "We've got the whole clinic."

"Easier to guard," said Mordin.

"How the stink can you afford the whole clinic?" Shepard shook his head. "That must have been some favor."

Mordin smiled and said nothing.

"And what do you mean, guard?" Shepard added.

The front door opened and a salarian poked his head out. "All ready for you in here, Mordin," he called.

Shepard realized that he knew the newcomer. "Commander Rentola?"

The salarian gave him a cheerful wave. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Shepard. Come on in!" Several more salarians bustled out the door and grabbed their bags. Shepard looked around as they trouped into the clinic. All of these salarians had been in the STG group on Virmire, along with Rentola and Captain Kirrahe.

There was a long corridor behind the main doors followed by a small antechamber. The group then moved into the large central room of the clinic. The nano-MRI unit was huge, and took up at least ten square meters. The central raised scanning platform was surrounded by a cylinder of bright metal. Shepard regarded the machine with some trepidation. He could see cold vapor streaming from a few ports as the machine's magnets began cooling to the near-absolute-zero temperatures they required. Mordin was strutting around the unit proudly, checking various connections and making satisfied noises.

Rentola was off in one corner, speaking with a few of the STG. They saluted and left the room, presumably to set up patrols. Rentola then walked over and shook Shepard's hand. "Captain Kirrahe sends his regards, and regrets that he couldn't be here personally. He's in the middle of another mission."

"I..." Shepard didn't know what to say. "How did you know about all of this?"

"Doctor Mordin had notified a few old colleagues in the Special Tasks Group of his needs," said Rentola. "As he was getting the clinic set up, it just so happened that word got around to me of what was going on. I thought it would be prudent to send some additional assistance. And I had plenty of volunteers."

Shepard could only laugh. "Word got around, huh?"

Rentola smiled and leaned towards Shepard. "I have to confess, for a secret group we can be a very chatty bunch."

Chakwas placed a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "John, for the scans you're going to have to be sedated. We can't have any movement at all in order to get the proper resolution."

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "Sedated? I think you mean you're going to have to put me in a coma."

Mordin bustled by. "All appears well here. About thirty minutes until ready. Will check micro-surgery suite next door."

"We'll be ready to operate just in case we find anything," said Chakwas.

Shepard took a deep breath. "I hate being put under. But we need to do this, so let's get to it."

* * *

The atrium of the Hotel T'Loria soared overhead. It was a gigantic, conical space which was lined with greenery and vines. It almost seemed like the interior of some impossibly huge arbor. Donnelly tried not to gape like a tourist, then decided he _was_ a damn tourist and gaped anyway.

Jack's hand was warm in his. The biotic was wearing an all-leather outfit as usual, but this one was more figure-hugging and less skimpy. It was almost odd to see Jack in clothes that didn't show that much skin. She glanced up at the atrium. "That all must be a bitch to water," she said.

Donnelly laughed. "Yeah, it must be." He figured it was probably on some sort of drip irrigation system. One part of his mind began to work out how he would have routed the plumbing. Then he mentally smacked himself upside the head. He had other things to concentrate on.

The asari at the reception desk handed them a keycard. "Have a pleasant stay, sir and madam."

"Oh, we will," said Jack. Donnelly picked up their bags and they headed for the elevators.

The elevator had transparent sides and ran up the side of the atrium. They stood side-by-side for a moment, looking out over the verdant scene. Then Jack turned to Donnelly with an evil grin. She held up a hand, and the engineer suddenly found himself pinned to the wall of the elevator by a blue glow. Jack climbed him like a tree and kissed him hard on the lips.

"Are you ready for me, big guy?" she breathed in his ear.

"Just try me, lassie," he replied.

She responded with another deep hungry kiss, almost as if she wanted to draw his essence from him. The elevator door opened on their floor. There was an asari and a salarian waiting, and both of them goggled a little bit at the scene inside the elevator. Jack gave a laugh, and the blue aura holding Donnelly faded. He picked up their bags with some difficulty, seeing as how he had somebody wrapped around his torso.

"Pardon us," he said mildly to the waiting aliens, and strolled out. He found the room without difficulty. Getting the keycard in was a little harder since Jack insisted on biting his neck during the procedure.

The room was more or less palatial. There was a huge picture window that looked out over Nos Astra. In front of the window was a shallow well that contained a large circular bed. Nearby were a few chairs, a couch...and a cart next to the bed. The cart held a large bottle and two glasses.

"Last stop, little lady," said Donnelly. Jack sighed and climbed down off of him. Donnelly put down their bags and pulled out a little toiletries kit.

"Spoilsport," she said. "I thought you were just gonna throw me on the bed there and get to work."

"I was hoping to be a _little_ more romantic than that. Plus I wanted to spruce up a bit first."

Jack gave a little growl, but seemed to accept it. She looked around the room a little more. "Where the hell _is_ the commode in this joint, anyway?"

"Um..." Donnelly looked around. There were no other doors, just paneling. "There must be one, right?"

Jack laughed. "Maybe asari just mark their territory like wolves." She walked over to the cart and picked up the bottle. She turned it to look at the label. "Hmm, the Perky Slut remembered."

"Aha! I found it." Donnelly had figured out that what looked to be decorative section of paneling was actually a sliding door. The bathroom behind the panel was just as opulent as the room. It held a tub that looked big enough to used for naval exercises, and a sink that looked to be made out of a single piece of jade. It was probably synthetic jade, but it was still beautiful.

Donnelly brushed his teeth. Ever since his first failed seduction attempt as a teenager, he had a bit of a phobia about bad breath. He knew Jack wouldn't mind, but it was still a little ritual to calm his nerves. He washed his face, and gave himself one last glance in the mirror.

Jack had poured them each a significant amount from the bottle. Donnelly picked up the bottle and saw it had a printed note attached to it.

 _Jack, remember to have fun! K.C._

"This is from Kelly?" he asked.

"Yep. She's not too bad of a person, once you get over the urge to strangle her." Jack tossed down a healthy gulp of the brandy, then strolled up to the window. It was twilight, and the purple light outside framed her beautifully. Donnelly picked up the other glass and almost took a sip of the brandy himself, but then put it back on the cart and walked up behind her. He put his arms around her and felt her press back against him. Her head was tucked perfectly under his chin.

They watched the twinkling cityscape in silence for a long moment. Jack took another swig, and now her glass was empty.

"Easy there, big shooter," said Donnelly with a laugh. "I'm not having you pass out on me." He felt her lithe body twist around in his arms, and she leaned back to look up at him.

"I can't believe this," she said. "All of this. We're really going to make this work, right?"

"Of course we are, ya scunner. It's like you said, we're awesome." Donnelly leaned down and kissed her. Jack's mouth opened under his, and now she seemed gentler, almost hesitant in her passion. After what seemed like forever, she finally broke the kiss and looked up at him again. Donnelly brow wrinkled.

Was he seeing things, or did her eyes look at little unfocused?

Jack's glass hit the carpet with a dull thud. "Assface," she slurred, "I don't feel so good..." She slumped against him.

Donnelly felt, for the first time in a long while, a pang of genuine fear. "Oh, fook. Jack, just hang on." He picked her up, cradling her as he moved away from the window towards the bed. He gently laid her out on it. Her eyes were unfocused, and she wasn't moving. Donnelly began to panic. Was this illness? She seemed fine this morning, and Chakwas was giving them all regular checkups. He looked around wildly. "Just hang in there, Jack, I'll call the _Normandy_ and..."

His eyes lit on the bottle, and his untouched glass of brandy.

"Oh, shite."

There was a click at the door, and he lunged for the bottle. The door opened and five armored figures hustled into the room. They were all humans. They had helmets on and stun batons at the ready.

And the first one through the door got a glass full of brandy thrown right into his face.

The glass broke against the visor, spraying liquor and glass over the attackers. Their neat formation faltered as they all instinctively flinched. Donnelly was among them in an instant. He roared in range and smashed the bottle of brandy alongside another helmet. The bottle shattered and the helmet's owner stumbled to the side. He spun and drove the jagged bottle at a third attacker, who batted aside his thrust and jabbed a shock baton at his stomach. Donnelly dodged most of the attack, but felt a agonizing jolt in his guts. He dropped the broken bottle and grabbed the man's extended arm and then his shoulder. He used the arm as a lever to throw the man into another of his comrades. He kept swinging. He was now all fists and elbows and rage, no longer a boxer or an engineer. Now he was once more one of the most feared members of the North Glasgow Express, itself one of the most feared football mobs in all of Scotland.

He managed to put three of them down hard before getting a stun baton in the back of his neck.

* * *

The control room had a long window along one side which looked out onto the nMRI unit. Chakwas could just see Shepard's feet from here. The Commander was stretched out in the scanning tube and deep in a medically-induced coma. She checked his biomonitors again. Everything looked fine from this side, but Chakwas was still worried. Due to the extensive modifications to Shepard, she was flying a little blind in regards to the amount of anesthetic that the Commander required.

She then turned to look at the wall next to the window. It held a huge holographic display which at the moment showed a transparent schematic of Shepard's body. During previous scans on the _Normandy_ , Chakwas had seen the reconstruction done to her Commander. It was one thing to see on a small monitor screen, and quite another to see it all laid out larger-than-life such as now.

Chakwas shuddered. The poor man had almost nothing left that was solely him. Every bone, every organ had been damaged in some way by the attack that had killed him. Cerberus had reconstructed him using cloned parts where they could, but in many areas they had resorted to cybernetics. The biomechanical repairs were everywhere in his body, and looked like some sort of gray infection spreading through the Commander's form.

The salarian scientist was at the main control console for the nMRI. "Third full scan complete," said Mordin. "Signal noise levels acceptable. Averaging data together from each scan appears effective. Estimate five more full scans required for five nines confidence in imaging."

She nodded in satisfaction. The scanning was actually going faster than they had anticipated. "That will finish it right about early morning, then. And another hour to bring him out of the coma. And then the surgery, if he needs it." Chakwas stepped forward and looked closely at the display. "Nothing new so far. I'm actually surprised. I would have thought that we would have seen something by now."

"Suspect Cerberus is using very subtle means to monitor Shepard. Anything obvious too easy to find by accident."

Chakwas sat down in a nearby chair with a sigh. "I imagine so. If there's a weak link in their scheme, it would be in transmitting the signal. You can't just miniaturize the antenna. It's got to be a certain size to work properly."

"Exactly," said Mordin. "That is planned line of attack. Will perform full check of imaging as each scan is complete."

The door to the room opened, and Rentola poked his head in. "There's nothing to report out here. It's a pretty quiet area. Is it all going well in here?"

Chakwas nodded. "So far. Thanks again to you and your men for your help, Commander."

The salarian commando shrugged. "No thanks are needed. If it wasn't for you and Shepard, we would be nothing but a few scattered bones on Virmire right now."

* * *

"Problem, boss," said one of Kendra's men. "They've got guards."

Wilt Kendra wormed himself forward. The roof of the warehouse was covered with some sort of pebbled shingles that made small scraping sounds against his armor. He put his binoculars to his face and scanned the distant clinic. There were the slim forms of armored salarians moving around the perimeter of the building.

"Looks like three on patrol," said Kendra. "There's probably another on the roof." He watched for a bit longer and saw a quick blink of movement near a large structure on the clinic's roof. "Yep, they've got a sniper up there. Behind the air conditioning unit." Kendra dropped the binoculars and thought for a moment. The sniper was the real concern, especially if he could help get intel to his salarian buddies on the ground.

One of his corporals was looking the clinic over. "That's a pretty beefy-looking air conditioner," he said. "If we want to take out the sniper, we'll have to shoot through it."

Unfortunately, they hadn't brought any weaponry that was purpose-built to deal with significant armor. Kendra pondered a little more. "Yorbin, you have a few of those anti-armor rounds for your rifle, right?"

The platoon's sniper dropped his own binoculars. "Yeah, but that ammo is really over-powered for the gun. I might get two shots before the weapon doesn't work any more."

"But you only need one shot, right?"

The sniper gave Kendra a nasty grin in reply.

Kendra checked his watch. "Time is still on our side. It's going to be a few hours before Shepard is awake. Let's be slow and steady, and plan this out properly. We only get one try at taking them by surprise."

* * *

Donnelly came slowly back to himself. He could feel something cold and rough pressed into the side of his face. He took a breath, and groaned. Someone, or several someones, had given him a right proper kicking all along his stomach and ribs. His attention floated for a moment, then he suddenly remembered. The hotel room...and the drugged brandy.

"Jack!" he gasped, and his left eye snapped open. He was face down, and all he could see was a stained section of concrete. He rolled over.

He was in an alleyway with a large amount of trash piled on him. The sky above seemed to be the rosy color indicating that dawn was soon to come. He got one hand against the nearest wall and pushed himself slowly to his feet. Nothing appeared to be broken, but his guts felt bruised and weak. He couldn't see out of his right eye. He rubbed at it and felt clotted blood holding the eyelid shut. He kept rubbing as he stumbled towards the mouth of the alley. He got the eyelid open just as he reached the street.

He had to get to some form of communication and get ahold of the _Normandy_. His attackers had probably dumped him in some godforsaken corner of Nos Astra, well away from any place where he could easily make contact. He had to move fast.

Donnelly looked around the street and blinked owlishly in the brightening light. It wasn't a street. It was a causeway alongside the ship docks. About a half a mile away, he could make out a sleek and familiar shape. It was the _Normandy_.

He stared in confusion for an instant. This made no sense at all. But he shrugged it off and staggered as fast as he could towards the distant ship.

* * *

Commander Rentola was making another round through the clinic. He was currently in the nMRI room. The doctors had apparently finished the final full scan, and were pouring over the images now as Shepard was carefully brought out of his induced coma. He glanced through the large window to the control room and saw Mordin and Chakwas gesturing to each other as they pointed at various parts of the transparent image of Shepards' body.

He walked back into the antechamber. "Position Six, check in," he murmured into his comm. That was near the rear loading dock of the facility.

"Position Six, all clear."

He reached the front lobby and looked through the small windows on the front doors. "Position Two, check in." That was their sniper on the roof.

No answer.

"Position Two, check in."

Still nothing.

"Position Three, do you have eyes on Position Two?"

"No," replied the commando at position three. "Let me move a bit."

"Go. Report ASAP," replied Rentola. He had been in STG long enough to develop a hypertrophied danger sense. Something smelled here. While he waited, he moved behind the lobby's reception desk. He decided that neatness was not a virtue in this case, and flipped the desk forward so that its surface faced the door. Various pens and datapads fell onto the carpet.

"Lead, This is Position Three. No sign of Two-"

There was a distant crack, and Position Three fell silent. Rentola ducked behind the desk just as the door blew in. His shields helped with most of the flying debris. He heard the 'clink' of a thrown grenade just before the room was flooded with light and noise.

The flashbang would ordinarily have stunned Rentola. But STG was nothing if not generous with its resources. He was wearing state-of-the-art polarizing contacts as well as protective earpieces. Between those two devices, most of grenade's effects was neutralized. Rentola popped his horned head up from the desk just as an armored human appeared through the smoke in the now wrecked doorway. The intruder met a three-round burst from the salarian's machine pistol. The rounds sparked off of the human's shields and the intruder ducked back around the door.

Rentola rolled a couple of his own surprises towards the doorway and began retreating along the hallway, facing back towards the main door as he went. He couldn't see much through the dust and hazed. He did hear a crackle and a curse, however. He lay down a long burst towards the sound and heard a couple of screams. Just as he'd hoped, his discharge grenades had brought down their shields. That should make them advance a little more cautiously. He stepped backwards along the hallway, radioing his team as he went.

"All positions, we are under attack. All team members except Six fall back to control room. Position Six, status?"

"Clear here. Have taken cover, will notify if anybody tries a breach here."

"Good. Team, we are going to collect our package and go out the back if possible. I will contact Big Wheel to be ready for extract."

He made a few more calls before he reached the antechamber and shut the door. He placed a few more little surprises at the sides of the doorway and fell back towards the main room. The nMRI unit was still wreathed in chilled vapor. Chakwas was reaching into the scanning tube and trying to lug Shepard's body out of the machine.

"Allow me to assist, madam," said Rentola. He reached in and grabbed one of Shepard's feet.

"What the.. _unf_...bloody hell is going on?" snapped Chakwas as they wrestled the Commander's naked body out of the tube.

"We're under attack. I don't know who they are. What is Shepard's condition?"

The two of them began manhandling Shepard towards the door to the control room.

"He's about thirty minutes away from waking up," said Chakwas. "I hope he'll.. _errg_..be okay, I wasn't able to fade out the anesthetic like I wanted to. I figured it was better to get him mobile when I heard that explosion."

"Very wise, madam."

They got to the door, and Chakwas tried to support her portion of the load and trigger the door button. "Gah," she gasped. "There are times I wish Shepard wasn't such an impressive specimen of a man." They got through the door just as a loud _boom_ sounded from the anteroom. The door to the anteroom smashed open, and a great gout of dust and smoke poured into the nMRI room. There were more screams. Rentola smiled to himself as the control room door closed.

Mordin and Chakwas were already shoving Shepard into a coverall. It wouldn't be much protection, but at least it would keep things from flapping around. Rentola wondered, briefly, how in the name of creation human males managed to get through life with such important parts of their anatomy in such a vulnerable position.

Then, through the large window, he saw movement out near the nMRI. Amid the dust and haze there were a couple of shadowy figures that flitted in and took cover near the machine.

"We don't want any trouble," called out a voice. "We just want Shepard."

Rentola's comm crackled. "Lead, this is Position Six. Just had another group of partygoers pull up at the rear entrance. Giving them a warm welcome." Rentola could hear faint yells and the crackle of gunfire from the rear of the clinic.

"Come on, guys," called the voice again. "Last chance, or we start using gas."

There was a brief silence, and then the far wall of the nMRI room blew in. The pressure wave _thrummed_ through the building, and the window looking onto the machine cracked into a fractal pattern. Rentola ducked, but the tough transparency held. Rentola could just make out the figures of his other team members as they leapt in through the hole. Their guns fired in quick staccato bursts. He glanced behind him to see that both Mordin and Chakwas had dragged Shepard into cover behind the nMRI control board.

The silence rolled in again. Rentola took another peek. Both of hostiles were definitely down. The two armored forms were riddled with bullets, and there was a quite amazing amount of red human blood all over the nMRI unit. His own team members were coming towards the door. That was just what he liked to see. Rentola unlocked the door and his team piled into the room.

"How are we doing?" Rentola asked. "What's our casualties?"

"They got Helfen on the roof, and Jardouk near the east wall," replied one of them. "I got dinged a little bit going through the wall back there, but it's nothing serious."

Rentola breathed out. Two men dead was still two too many. Now he had to make sure that none of the rest of his team was killed. "Give the doctors a hand with Shepard. We're going to collect Kelran at the back and get ourselves out of here." He turned to the doctors. "Were you able to get the scan data pulled from the control board?"

Mordin nodded. "Have everything. Also gave copy to Chakwas, just in case."

"We think we did see something suspicious in the scans," said Chakwas, "but for now we'll have to wait on dealing with it. I'm also trying to get ahold of the _Normandy_ , but there's a lot of jamming."

"I'm almost glad you found something," said Rentola. "I'd hate to go through this for no reason." He looked out the window onto the carnage around the nMRI. Two of his men were down. Two good men that had survived the madness of Virmire, only to get shot down like vermin on Illium.

Rentola gave a grim smile to his attackers' shredded bodies that sprawled in the next room. He wasn't religious like Mordin, but he did dabble in studying the faiths of other species. He was particularly interested in the humans' Ten Commandments. He liked both the text itself and the fascinating mythology surrounding its creation.

He didn't know who his enemies were. But they were about to learn, in a very definitive way, Rentola's First Commandment.

 _Thou shalt not fuck with the Special Tasks Group_.

* * *

Joker dozed in his chair. It was almost more comfortable than his bed, and this way he got to pretend he was still in space. If Joker wasn't flying, he wasn't really happy. Shore leave was, to him, just wasted time. Drinks and dancing were not really his thing, especially the dancing part.

He was woken by the growl of the main airlock door opening. Joker turned his head to look behind him and saw Donnelly come staggering through the door. The engineer's face was a mask of blood, through which his crazed eyes stared at Joker. Donnelly held his stomach with both arms, as if it pained him.

Joker tried to jump to his feet and immediately regretted it when he felt a warning twinge from his legs. He more carefully edged himself out of the chair as Donnelly lurched towards him.

"Call general quarters," Donnelly wheezed. "Get everyone to the hangar. Jack's been kidnapped."

"What? Shit, dude, I-"

"CALL EVERYBODY!" roared Donnelly. "Especially Kelly, she needs to get her ass down there pronto. She has some fucking explaining to do."

* * *

Garrus was in bed, but not asleep. He was going to feel so much better once Shepard was back on board and he could properly relax. Of course, one thing that made the tension more bearable was a warm and welcome pressure on one side of his chest. Kasumi stirred a little bit as he moved, and murmured "five more minutes'" Her hair splayed out alongside them in a black wave. He smiled and began softly combing one talon through her hair. He had gotten rid of the cot he'd been using and substituted an inflatable mattress. It wasn't fancy, but neither of them cared.

Kasumi moved a little bit more as she came to full awareness. "Mmm," she said, "I had the most wonderful dream."

"Oh? Care to tell me?"

"I dreamed that I was in the bed of a handsome prince." She ran one hand along his chest. "He was big and strong, and very brave."

"Hmm. I think I'm a little jealous of this prince."

Kasumi smiled at him and kissed one of his mandibles. He still couldn't get over the whole 'kissing' thing. It had sounded ridiculous back when he'd first read about it. But Kasumi had definitely shown him the appeal. His only regret was that he couldn't really return the favor. Turian lips weren't really built for kissing.

She sat up and threw one leg over him, straddling his stomach. She leaned down and pressed her forehead against his. They stared into each other's eyes.

"I think I'm still dreaming," she said in a quiet voice.

He was about to respond both verbally and physically when a harsh klaxon sounded.

"General quarters!" yelled Joker over the intercom. "We need all hands to the hangar bay stat!"

* * *

The room containing the AI core was quiet and still. Tali hoped it would stay that way. Kasumi had given her a couple of little presents and had told her how to use them. They had both worked just fine. The little block of synthetic flesh apparently fooled the DNA sensor, and the more gruesome-looking artificial eye was also accepted without complaint. Tali wondered, briefly, just how Kasumi had pulled it off. The DNA was one thing, she could imagine how to get a sample for that. But how had the thief managed the eye scan? She was pretty sure that Miranda's retinal data was not on record anywhere on the _Normandy_.

Around her was the soft hum of ventilation. EDI's main processors were large gray blocks, each almost the size of her torso. There were many of them, stacked in cages around the center of the room. It could have been her imagination, but there seemed to be a soft buzz in the air from it all. Tali stepped up to the main terminal for EDI. It was a small screen with a simple keypad below it, along with the same security scanners as on the door. Kasumi's little presents worked once again, and Tali then tapped in the password that she'd been given.

There was a soft chime. "Root access enabled," said EDI's voice. Just as Tali was about to type more, the door hissed open again. She spun, only to be faced with the silhouette of a human with a gun in his hand. The muzzle was pointed right at her head.

"Well, well," said Rogers. "What have we here?"


	21. Misery Is The River Of The World

"Wake up, sweetheart."

The voice was low and pleasant. Jack tried to raise her head, but that just resulted in a huge spike of pain through her head. She groaned involuntarily.

"Yeah," said the voice. "You've got a splitting headache, right? It's a standard side effect of Haldoran. You've got a lot of it in your system right now. We don't want you using any of those nasty biotic powers. Not right now. Here, let me help you."

A hand took Jack's forehead and pressed her head up. She felt a metal band go around her forehead and temples. There was a click, and the band tightened to hold her head in place. This was a very familiar and unwelcome situation from her past, and she began to strain at her bonds. She could feel that she was wearing nothing but her panties. A growl issued from her throat as she focused her eyes and took in her surroundings.

It was a small bare room. The walls were painted cinder blocks, and there was a bricked-over window on the wall next to her. There was a single harsh light overhead. She saw the outline of a door in the far wall. An actual swinging door, not an automated one. There was nothing else in here but her, the chair she was strapped to, and three men facing her. The two flanking humans wore blue armor that bore the white circular symbol of the Blue Suns. The center man was much smaller. He put Jack in mind of a weasel or rat. He wore an unremarkable gray suit, and his eyes were hard and merciless.

"Now, Subject Zero," said the gray man in the same pleasant voice. "You know that struggling won't do any good."

The name he called her filled her with a hot sheet of rage. She felt metal bands around her head, arms, and waist. It reminded her of the time she woke up in Purgatory, when Shepard had recruited her. She had gotten out of that, and she was going to get out of this.

"Fuck you, you fucking fuck," she spat. "My name is Jack. I'm gonna make you scream it before I tear you apart."

The gray man sighed. "You won't. Not with that drug in your system. Right now you're just another normal woman." He cocked his head at her. "Ordinarily, you'd have been kept sedated until we got you to a proper holding facility. But time is short, and you have information that we need."

"You will suck my cock, motherfucker. That's all you're getting out of me."

He laughed, and made a casual waving gesture with one hand. The two flanking guards stepped around to either side of her chair. The gray man leaned forward, gave Jack a gentle smile, and then gave her a short vicious punch right into her nose.

Jack felt an explosion of pain and heard the crunch of her nose breaking. Her eyes began to water. She ignored it all. She'd been through worse. She would get through this.

"That's just to show we're serious," said the gray man. He stood upright.

Jack took a deep, ragged breath. "It is going to feel so nice when I gut you. I'm going to take my time." She looked at him like something slimy found under a rock. "Where is Marcus? What did you do to him?"

"Oh, it's Marcus now? Not Assface?" He gave her another gentle smile. "You'll never see him again. Why worry?"

The hot sheet of rage in her faltered. She stared off at nothing. "You really aren't making it easy on yourself," she said. "You really won't like living life with nothing but a hole to piss out of. Because I'm going to rip your cock off with my teeth."

"Enough," said the gray man. "We need to know if there was any plot regarding EDI. Did any of you plan to alter or sabotage her?"

Jack began to focus on her breath instead of the rage. It wasn't easy. In fact, it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But she did it. For Marcus. She knew he was dead. There was a horrible void deep inside her, one that she'd never thought she would feel for another person's death. But she was going to get through this. Marcus would want her to.

"I'm just a stupid grunt, asshole," said Jack. "Why would I know anything?"

The gray man took a step forward and gave her a slap across the face. He was much stronger than he looked; Jack actually saw stars.

"You hit like a pussy, shithead."

He gave her another slap. This one split her lip. She grinned a bloody rictus up at him. "You know me, you fuck. If you call me that name, you know what I've been through. You think you can hurt me?"

The gray man looked at her thoughtfully, then brought his fist around and smashed it into the left side of Jack's face. She felt the skin alongside her eye split, and felt blood start to flow.

"Subject Zero," he said, "I know you have a high pain threshold. But why prolong your suffering? We don't want to hurt you. What's done is done. Your little plot is over. Just tell us what we want to know and we'll stop. You'll be well cared for, I assure you. Now, again...was there any plan to sabotage EDI?"

Jack let her head sag against its restraining band. She realized that there weren't any bands on her legs. She wheezed a little, trying to seem more hurt than she was. She wanted him to come closer. She spoke softly. "My name..is Jack. And I don't know shit."

"Your name is what we make it, Subject Zero. We have made you. We own you. Once you realize that, once you stop this silly acting out, then things will go so much easier for you."

The gray man stepped forward. Jack could just see his shoes in front of her bare feet. He placed one shoe on her foot and then suddenly stomped down hard. She felt one of the bones in her arch break. Just as she felt the pain begin, she brought her other foot up in a fast arc. Her shin connected with the gray man's crotch in a satisfying thud. He let out a high-pitched scream and staggered back. One of the Blue Suns stepped in front of the gray man to shield him from Jack. She screamed a high, vicious laugh.

The door opened, and another merc entered. He had to stoop to get through the doorway. This new guy was just about the biggest human that Jack had ever seen. He had short-cropped black hair and a face that looked like he'd been carved out of a block of granite.

"Everything all right in here?" he said. He had a voice that sounded like it came from the bottom of a well. He gave the bent-over gray man a humorous glance.

"We're fine, Corbin," replied the gray man in a tight and pained voice. "We don't need help."

"Corbin, is it?" said Jack. "It's good to know your name. When I get out of here, I'll carve mine into your forehead. Or maybe into your dick."

Corbin shifted his amused look to her. "Seems like a real peach you got there, Harper."

"This doesn't concern you!" snapped Harper. "The less you know the better." He was standing more upright now, but his face was still drawn in pain.

Jack laughed. "Yeah, Mr. Tall Drink Of Water looks like he doesn't have much space in that head. You tell him anything new, he might forget his mom's name."

Corbin walked further into the room. He now no longer looked amused. "You watch your mouth, you little skank. I'm not the one strapped to a chair."

Jack figured that she had hit paydirt. It was either the slam on his intelligence, or the mention of his mother. She decided to push on the latter. "Oh, did I hit a nerve there, Mr. Corbin? Is your momma a saint?"

Corbin loomed over her. "Shut up," he growled.

Jack tilted her head and gave him her best 'fuck you' grin. "Your momma is pretty nice, I have to admit. I found that out last night. She can moan so sweet-"

Corbin belted her across the right side of her face with the back of his fist. Jack's head snapped around; it felt like she'd been hit by a tree. She felt more torn skin and more blood flowing. She probed the inside of her mouth with her tongue. At least two teeth were loose.

"Hey, you got the sides of my face to match, fuckwit. Nice job."

The gray man finally stood back up. "Fine, bitch," he snarled. His voice was no longer pleasant. "You play it that way. I tried to reason with you." He walked off to one side and out of Jack's field of vision. He returned, pushing a cart in front of him. The top of the cart was covered by a cloth. He wheeled the cart in front of Jack, and then whipped the cloth off.

The cart contained an impressive array of cutting implements. Saws, scalpels, bolt cutters...it was all there.

The gray man pointed at the instruments. "You see that?" he said, his voice almost back to normal now. "Have a good look. We'll let you have a nice long time to look. Then we're coming back in here, and if you don't answer our questions fully we are going to start cutting parts off. We have to bring you back alive. We don't have to bring you back intact."

He turned and left the room. He was still hobbling slightly. The two mercs followed. Corbin looked over her nearly-naked body and then gave her an unpleasant smile and a wink. He then followed them out of the room. The door slammed shut. Jack was left alone to look at the instruments of her impending torture.

* * *

Garrus heard Donnelly roaring before he even got through the door to the hangar.

"Don't give me that shit, Miranda. Where is Kelly?"

Garrus jogged, not quite running, into the hangar bay. It was now quite crowded. Miranda stood near the door into the hangar. The rest of the crew was scattered throughout the space. Garrus saw that most of the ground team was here. He didn't see Kasumi. The thief had donned her catsuit in record time after the alarm, given him a last kiss, and then vanished. He didn't see Tali or Jacob either.

Donnelly stood near the parked shuttle, glaring at Miranda. His face was wild and bloody. Garrus stared in shock. Gone was the placid, unassuming engineer. He now looked more like some big, terminally pissed-off vorcha. Garrus moved further into the space and turned slightly to keep an eye on the door into the hangar.

"Yeoman Chambers is on her way, I assure you," said Miranda. Her voice was even and steady. "Now, Marcus, please let someone look you over. You have clearly been seriously injured."

"Fuck that. Jack's been kidnapped. Whoever did it knew where we would be. There was a bottle of brandy from Kelly. It was drugged. We were attacked. They bypassed the lock and came at us right after we would have taken a drink."

Miranda held up a hand. "Please. Let someone look at you. We will deal with everything in a calm fashion." She looked around. "Where is Kasumi?" There was no answer. Miranda looked at Garrus. "Gunnery Officer Vakarian, do you know the whereabouts of Ms. Goto?"

"No, XO Lawson."

"EDI," said Miranda, "locate Kasumi Goto. Full sensor suite scan authorized. Tell Mr. Taylor to go collect her."

"Acknowledged," said the AI in an almost robotic voice.

Garrus gritted his teeth. He hoped Kasumi wasn't up to anything too foolish. All Kasumi had told him was that she'd be watching from the shadows until she knew what was going on.

Just then Kelly walked into the hangar. She stopped dead when she saw everybody looking at her. Donnelly's eyes bored at her. "Did you know, Kelly?" he asked her. His voice was now low and growling. "Did you have a hand in this? If you had anything to do with it, I swear I will take you apart-"

"Chief Engineer Donnelly," said Miranda. Her voice remained calm. "Did Yeoman Chambers actually hand you the bottle? Was it in your possession the entire time?"

The anger in Donnelly's eyes faltered. "No, it was there in the room when we got there."

Kelly finally unfroze. She looked like a small mouse facing a committee of snakes. "I bought a bottle of delrach brandy through the hotel," she said. "I asked them to deliver it to the room with a note. Marcus, what _happened_?"

"You see?" asked Miranda. "There was plenty of opportunity for someone to get ahold of that bottle and doctor it. Now, you really should have Yeoman Chambers take a look at you. She does have some medical training."

"Why her? Where are the docs?" asked Zaeed.

"And where's Shepard?" added Joker. "He was off doing something for Liara, right? We need to get in touch with him stat."

Miranda sighed. "Both Mordin and Chakwas are off assisting Shepard in his task. That is all you need to know." Garrus almost said something to contradict her, but decided that this was not the time. Not yet.

In the meantime, Kelly pulled down an emergency first aid kit off of a nearby bulkhead and cautiously approached Donnelly. She took out some antiseptic wipes. Donnelly was staring at the hangar deck, clearly in shock. The yeoman began to gently wipe the blood off of his face. She murmured something to Donnelly, but Garrus didn't catch it. Garrus glanced around. The crew was starting to shift and mutter. The air felt tense. Even Thane looked concerned. The drell's body posture seemed to indicate complete relaxation, however, as the assassin leaned casually against a bulkhead near Marcus.

"Both of the doctors are gone at once?" asked Samara. "That does not seem particularly wise. In any case, I agree with Mr. Moreau. This is a serious attack, and we need to notify the Commander. We also need to begin our rescue attempt right now."

"Any rescue planning will wait until Shepard gets back," said Miranda.

That snapped Donnelly out of his shock. He looked at Miranda in disbelief. "Excuse me? They may have Jack loaded onto a ship right now, and if they get her off Illium we will have no chance in hell of finding her. We've got to move!"

Miranda shook her head. "I suspect this abduction of Jack is to claim the considerable bounty on her. This was a planned operation, and not done on the spur of the moment. We must be cautious. We will wait until Shepard returns. I want him to plan any rescue attempt."

Garrus was about to interject, to try to gently persuade Miranda to reconsider. But then his comm crackled, and he heard a brief fragmentary message from Chakwas in his ear.

"Garrus, hope your re...this...under attack...moving Shepard."

He stiffened. He turned and locked eyes with Miranda.

"Shepard's under attack," he said.

* * *

The nMRI clinic's loading dock was a large square of concrete, with a high roof overhead to keep rain off of any unloaded cargo. The sides were open and exposed, which wasn't good. Fortunately, it was also lined with a number of substantial pillars to support the roof. Chakwas crouched behind one of them. The next pillar over shielded both Mordin and the unconscious Shepard. She kept hearing the crack of gunfire as she tried to contact the _Normandy_.

"I repeat, Garrus, I hope you're receiving this. We are under attack by unknown forces. We are moving Shepard. Please respond if you receive this."

Mordin glanced around his pillar and pointed his arm. Something bright and hot flew from his omni-tool and there was a far-off, panicked scream.

Rentola slipped around the edge of her pillar. He moved softly and silently like flowing smoke. "We're stuck here," he said, "but they can't get the necessary crossfire to really push in on us. We just have to hold out for a bit. The Big Wheel is on its way, it should be here within ten minutes."

"That's our extraction, right?" asked Chakwas. "Why do you call it the Big Wheel?"

The commando smiled at her. "Because it keeps on turning."

* * *

Kasumi was hiding near the elevator, just around the corner from the door to the hangar deck. She was listening to the mounting panic in everyone's voice. Once Garrus had mentioned the attack on Shepard, she knew it was time to be gone. This was not some random attack. She suspected that Cerberus was on the move, and Tali had to be warned. She was also pretty sure that EDI wouldn't be able to track her, 'full sensor suite' or not.

One of the access tunnels had its entrance near her location. She ghosted over to it and opened it. She left it open just long enough for someone to have entered, then closed it again. Kasumi stepped quietly back along the corridor and waited.

Soon, the elevator door hissed open and Jacob came out. He looked towards the access tunnel entrance and then around the corridor. Kasumi watched him move his eyes right over her location as she breathed silently. It was a familiar situation for her, to be apparently out in plain view but still invisible.

Jacob touched one ear, as if he was getting instructions. Presumably EDI was feeding him real-time information. He gave a bemused grunt and headed back into the elevator. Kasumi was right behind him, and slipped in before the doors closed. She hugged one wall as she stared at the armorer's back.

"EDI didn't see anything other than the door opening," he murmured into his comm. "She's in the access tunnels. EDI will notify me if another tunnel door opens. My guess is she's heading up to the AI core to assist Tali. I'll be there to intercept." Kasumi had hoped that Jacob wouldn't be quite so quick on the uptake. But she would make this work, even if she had to knock out Jacob. She hoped she wouldn't have to hurt him too badly.

The elevator opened again, and Jacob stalked out towards the medbay. Kasumi flitted behind him. She could simply tase him now, but that might alert others. It would be better to see what he had planned. As Jacob moved up to the medbay door, Kasumi went alongside between him and the wall.

Just as Jacob reached for the medbay door control, he whirled and lunged at her.

Kasumi had a moment of shocked surprise and almost didn't dodge in time. He grappled for her neck just as she slipped inside his arms and gave him a substantial hit across the mouth with her elbow. He grunted and rocked to the side. Kasumi ducked under his arms and began to scramble away on all fours, only to feel one hand clamp onto her ankle. Jacob yanked her towards him. She kicked back just as he pulled, and saw a pressure cut appear on his forehead. He didn't seem to notice, and piled on top of her as she kept hitting. She was strong, but he had the advantage of sheer muscle mass. He had one of her arms pinned under his chest, and she couldn't move her legs. She reached up with her free hand and tried to gouge at his eyes, but he grabbed the hand and yanked it away. He was very good in the clinch, after all.

"Dammit, Kasumi, STOP," he yelled, and pinned her neck down with his other forearm. "Please! I don't want to hurt you!"

Kasumi couldn't breathe. She kept struggling as her vision began to fade.

* * *

"Shepard's under attack," said Garrus. He was now looking very steadily at Miranda. Donnelly felt an electric hush that flowed through the crew at the news.

Grunt took a step forward, his fists clenched. "My Battlemaster needs aid?" asked the krogan.

Donnelly pushed Kelly away, ignoring the hurt look on her face. She might or might not be guilty, but for now he wasn't going to give her the benefit of the doubt. "That cannot be a coincidence," he said. It was well past time to get his brain working again. Several things were falling into place in his mind. "I guess we're going to have to do two rescues, now." He watched Miranda closely.

The XO shook her head. "One thing at a time. We are going to get a plan together. I will not have everyone running off half-cocked. Our priority has to be Shepard. Marcus, I can appreciate how much Jack means to you but the Commander comes first."

"We'll get her back, Marcus," murmured Kelly.

"Don't worry, Chiefy," added Zaeed, more loudly. "She'll be all right. She's a tough one."

Donnelly nodded with a grim smile. "I guess it could be worse. I could be dead, right?"

"Yes," said Miranda. "You were very fortunate."

"But _why_ didn't they kill me, Miranda?" said Donnelly. He was almost shouting.

There was a short silence.

"After all," he continued in a quieter tone, "I was a liability. I didn't see their faces, true, but I could raise an alarm. Which I've just done. Why not simply slit my throat and dump me in the harbor? By the time I was found, they would be long gone with Jack."

Miranda waved a hand. "I don't know. I won't speculate on their motives."

Donnelly pressed on. "Further, why did they dump me right next to the _Normandy_? Why not on the other side of Nos Astra? Why did they make _sure_ that I'd get back safely? _Why didn't they kill me, Miranda?_ "

Miranda's lips thinned. "I don't know-"

Donnelly pointed a finger at her. "Because YOU needed me alive!" he roared.

No one moved. No one breathed.

"Mr. Donnelly, that is a very serious accusation-" began Miranda before Donnelly interrupted her.

"You needed me alive. You needed me here. I'm the only engineer who really knows the _Normandy_. You couldn't get someone else, not at this late date. Aside from Tali, but then she's not _human_ , is she?"

Garrus dropped one of his feet back, as if he was getting ready to lunge. Around him, Donnelly could feel the tension as the crew began to look at each other.

"Mr. Donnelly," said Miranda in a hard voice, "You are overwrought. You have just been physically attacked. I am willing to overlook your ridiculous accusations but I warn you-"

"You warn me, Miranda? I get back here, I raise a ruckus and you say we need to sit on our arses until Shepard gets back. And now he's unavailable because _he's_ under attack. How very convenient for you. No wonder they didn't try to keep me from getting back. They knew nothing would be done."

Donnelly saw Kelly step forward. She stretched out pleading hands to both him and Miranda. "Please," she said, "let's just go through one thing at a time. What is Shepard's situation?"

Garrus cocked his head. "I don't know. I only just received a fragment of a call from Doctor Chakwas."

"Why did you get it, and not Miranda?" asked Joker.

The turian took a deep breath. "Because Shepard isn't assisting Liara T'Soni. He's off with the doctors getting a detailed full body scan on non-Cerberus equipment. He wanted to check for any monitoring devices." He looked at Miranda. "And only you and I knew that, Miranda. How did they find Shepard?"

Miranda glared at Garrus. "You tell me. You never told me the location of the clinic. Your damned boyfriend must have slipped up. They must have been followed."

"Followed by whom, Miranda?" asked Garrus. His voice was disarmingly mild.

"How should I know? Shepard's made a lot of enemies. It is irrelevant right now. We need to plan a rescue for him-"

"And for Jack too, you _bitch_." said Donnelly. Kelly shot him a pleading glance which he ignored.

Miranda pointed a finger at him. "Engineer Donnelly, I am going to have you sedated. You have sustained a serious head wound. You are mentally compromised as a result, and you need medical attention. EA Rogers can fill in for you while you are indisposed-"

"Oh, you mean this damned _bosh'tet_?" said Tali's voice.

The quarian backed into the hangar with Rogers in tow. Tali had one hand in a firm hold on Roger's scalp and the muzzle of her shotgun jammed into the base of his skull. The reason for her backing up was soon apparent. Abramson followed the pair, moving at the same pace as Tali. He had a pistol out and trained on her head.

Garrus backpedaled further, apparently to keep them all in his field of view. The incoming trio moved slowly into the hangar deck.

" _Et tu_ , Abramson?" murmured Donnelly.

Miranda took in a breath. "Abramson, report."

"Rogers followed the quarian," said Abramson. Under his light blond hair his usually smiling face was an expressionless mask. "She accessed the AI core and then the main terminal. She had just gained root access when Rogers intervened. She didn't do anything to EDI, Rogers stopped her in time. I was back in the medbay and I didn't exactly see what happened. Next thing I know, she had Rogers by the neck. She said we were taking a walk down to the hangar. Since that's where you wanted her, I followed along."

"Did you see Taylor or Goto?"

Abramson nodded. "They're right behind us."

Garrus started forward. "What happened to Kasumi?"

Miranda spun and pointed a finger at him. There was now a gun in her other hand, and Donnelly didn't remember seeing her draw it. Damn, she was fast. For right now, she was pointing her gun at the deck. "You will stay right there, turian!" she spat. "Everyone will stay exactly where they are. There has been treason brewing on this ship. We have just heard it. Tali was attempting to sabotage EDI. With assistance from Kasumi, no doubt. She's the only one who could bypass the AI core security."

Miranda then pointed at Donnelly. "And you, Mr. Donnelly. You are a part of this as well. I figured out your little scheme to bypass EDI's surveillance. What were all of you planning? Tell me, was Jack really kidnapped, or is this all some ploy to get us to split up?"

Donnelly said nothing. Tali looked over at him. Abramson took a half step forward as if to try to rescue Rogers, but the quarian's head snapped back around to him and gave the assistant a little warning shake.

Garrus looked past Abramson, and Donnelly saw the turian's fists clench. Now Jacob entered, pushing a dazed-looking Kasumi. He had her arm locked behind her. There was a large, ragged rip along the front of the thief's catsuit.

"What did you do to her, you bastard?" growled Garrus. "Did you get your jollies on while you had her down?"

"Easy, Garrus," said Jacob. He had a puffed lip and blood all down one side of his face. "I just did it to disable her cloak. And I frisked her for weapons. That's all." The armorer pulled out a Carnifex hand cannon and tossed it over near Miranda's feet. "She just had this," he said. Donnelly saw Garrus look at the gun, then back at Kasumi. She raised her head and stared back at Garrus silently. The turian's stance eased slightly.

"Zaeed," said Miranda. "Since you are standing closest to Engineer Donnelly, will you please take him into custody?"

The scarred mercenary looked at Miranda with an unreadable expression, then shrugged and pulled out his pistol. He casually walked over, and Donnelly felt the muzzle of Zaeed's pistol poke into his side.

"Sorry, Chiefy," said Zaeed. "But they're paying me. It's nothing personal, right?"

Samara stepped forward. Miranda shifted her finger to her. "I said nobody move! We are getting Shepard back and then I'm getting to the bottom of this treason. Tali, you will release Rogers now. I promise we do not want to harm you, but we will if you leave us no alternative."

Tali looked over at Miranda, and even through the purple visor Donnelly could see the force of the quarian's glare. "You promise me mercy? I should trust my life to the honor of Cerberus? My people have seen first hand your version of honor, you CUNT."

The curse seemed to resonate off the walls. Donnelly couldn't quite believe it. Jack's vocabulary must have rubbed off on Tali.

Miranda didn't even blink. "None of you will be harmed. Kasumi, Marcus, and Tali will be confined and then Jacob and Zaeed will mount a rescue to get Shepard back safely." She looked over at Garrus. "Do you have a problem with that, Gunnery Officer Vakarian? For some reason, I thought you might object."

Garrus said nothing. Miranda tilted her head. "Nothing to say?" she said, in an almost silky voice. "I thought you would have thrown in a veto by now. Unless you don't want to appear to be part of all of this plotting."

"There must be some mistake," said Samara. "I know Marcus. He is an honorable man. I do not believe he would be a part of anything nefarious."

"The Justicar speaks sense," said Thane. He was still leaning casually against a bulkhead, as if he was watching a tennis match. "Why would he work so hard on the refit, if he is untrustworthy? Why would Tali, for that matter? They both know what's at stake. There is no motive for such a plot."

Donnelly took a breath. He did have another card to play. Now it was time to do it Shepard's way. No more lies or coverups.

"Actually, there is one very good motive," he said in a casual voice. Samara turned to look at him in disbelief, but Donnelly kept his eyes on Miranda as he said the next words. "The Pragia facility? Where Jack was experimented on? It was run by Cerberus. We have proof."


	22. Bad Liver And A Broken Heart

Kendra was pissed. He was pissed at the universe in general, he was pissed at every goddamn asari on Illium, he was pissed at being pinned down and unable to achieve his mission. And most of all, right now, he was pissed at the little hologram of the gray-suited bastard that floated above his omni-tool.

"You have your orders," said Harper's image. "Get to it. I don't want to hear any more excuses."

Kendra ducked down further behind the cargo van that his team had used as transport. A round _pinged_ off it, way too close to his head for comfort. "Excuses?" he snarled. "I have six men down. You told us it would just be Mordin and the doc. Mordin was going to be a handful as it was. We hadn't counted on the salarians."

Harper rolled his eyes. "So they hired some mercs. Do your job."

"These aren't mercs!" yelled Kendra. "These guys have shit I've never even heard of! We are not equipped for this kind of operation!"

Harper turned a little and yelled offscreen. "Where's that damned icepack?" He turned back to Kendra. "All right, I am contacting Quentin to request reinforcements. Keep Shepard's group pinned down until they arrive. I'm sure your boss will be thrilled to hear of your incompetence." The hologram winked out.

Kendra started to curse, but was cut short.

"Boss!" bawled one of his men. "We got an incoming cargo hauler!"

Kendra peeked around the other side of the van. The newcomer was just coming down to rest, about a hundred meters away from them. It was a standard-looking freight hauler and much bigger than their own van. It had landed with its rear doors facing them.

He was sure this wasn't the reinforcements that Harper had promised. There had been no communication from the hauler, and the Blue Suns couldn't have gotten here _this_ fast. "Take it out!" he yelled. There was a crackle of gunfire, and the rear doors of the hauler shredded under the sustained barrage. Kendra had a weapon modified for concussive and incendiary shots, and he began applying both of them liberally to the hauler. Within thirty seconds, the vehicle was a shredded and flaming heap of metal. Kendra gave a little nod of satisfaction. Whoever these salarian bastards were, their extraction was now _kaput_.

He commed his team. "Keep firing on the loading dock. Do not let up. I'm going to double check the hauler." Kendra scuttled forward, trying to keep his own van between him and the loading dock. The fire and heat got more intense as he got closer to the wreck. There must have been something in the hauler that acted as fuel. He really hoped that there were a lot more of those salarian bastards inside and burning to death.

Just as he got within twenty meters, he heard a groaning noise. The tangled metal shifted. He took a half step back. Nothing else happened. He relaxed a little...just as something roared out of the flames. Kendra caught a final glimpse of a black and windowless shape.

The second-to-last thing that went through Wilt Kendra's mind was terror. The very last thing that went through his mind was the prow of the Big Wheel.

* * *

Chakwas heard the roar of an engine, followed by a smashing noise and some screams. There was a fusillade of shots, which she hoped was the STG troops taking advantage of the distraction. She was getting ready to risk a peek when Rentola called out.

"All clear, doctors! Let's move!"

She reached over and grabbed underneath one of Shepard's shoulders. Mordin had the other as they dragged Shepard towards Rentola. The salarian stood with the rest of his group at the far end of the loading dock. As she and Mordin approached, two of the salarians left the group and dashed around the side of the facility. Armored human corpses lay everywhere.

Parked behind the salarians was...

Well, the vehicle reminded her of the Mako from the original _Normandy_. This one, however, was bigger and jet-black. It had no windows that she could see. It also had a pair of smaller guns in the top turret rather than the Mako's large cannon. The side of the vehicle slid open as the two doctors approached. Rentola and another salarian grabbed Shepard's feet and they all managed to sling the human into the vehicle. Mordin hopped up inside and dragged Shepard further in.

The two salarians came back into the loading dock. Each of them had one of their fallen comrades slung over their shoulders in a fireman's carry. Chakwas moved towards them and helped them get the bodies into the vehicle. Both of the salarians nodded their thanks at her and climbed in.

Chakwas was the last to board. The interior was utilitarian, as she expected, with seats lining each side of the vehicle. Mordin and one of the STG troops were strapping Shepard into a seat and taking great care to stabilize his head. The two salarian bodies were being carefully laid out at the rear of the interior.

"All in!" called Rentola as he slid the door closed. "Doctor Chakwas, you should ride up front. Karlon will need directions, and he has a full radio suite."

Chakwas nodded. She could maybe recontact the _Normandy_. Right now, her comm was still showing no contact back to base. Whatever the interference was, it might not be local to the clinic. If the source was actually at the ship, that was truly worrying.

She piled into the copilot chair. She was relieved to see that, in spite of what it looked like from outside, the vehicle did indeed have a large panoramic windscreen in the front. There was a small and cheerful-looking salarian in the driver's seat. She assumed this was Karlon. The driver gave her a casual nod and then stomped on the accelerator. She grabbed at the dash as the vehicle lurched away from the clinic at great speed. Chakwas began fumbling her safety harness into place.

"Any requests, Chief?" called Karlon.

"I think 'Run Through The Jungle' is appropriate, don't you?" replied Rentola.

Karlon nodded his agreement and touched a few controls on the control wheel. Music filled the vehicle. After a few moments, it settled into a down-and-dirty, bass-heavy beat that Chakwas suddenly recognized.

"Wait a minute!" she yelled over the music. "This is-"

"It's CCR, ma'am!" yelled Karlon back happily. "The finest art that humanity has ever produced!" He made a hairpin turn that made her heart skip. The vehicle began to really pick up speed. Chakwas leaned back and gripped her harness tight as John Fogerty began to growl.

" _Whoa thought it was a nightmare, Lord it was so true..._ "

* * *

Miranda snorted and shook her head. "Cerberus is responsible for Pragia? Please. You will say anything at this point-"

"It's true," said Garrus. "We do have proof." He touched his wrist, and there was a soft chorus of _pings_ throughout the hangar as everybody's omni-tool chimed. "I've just uploaded our findings to everyone. Take a look. We have nothing to hide. Not any more."

"No one look at it!" said Miranda. For once she was looking worried. "This is a trick to get us fighting each other. It must be fake information." Several of the crew made as if to open their omni-tools, and stopped as she glared at each of them in turn.

Donnelly felt Zaeed's muzzle shift a bit against his side. "Chiefy," muttered the mercenary in a voice only he could hear, "Please don't bullshit me. Is this for real?"

Donnelly gave a very subtle nod. "Sorry, Zaeed," he murmured back. "I wish it wasn't true. It sure would've made my life a lot simpler."

Zaeed looked over at Garrus. He called out more loudly. "Garrus. You've had my back plenty of times. I hope this is another one'a them. No bullshit?"

"No bullshit, Zaeed." Garrus folded his hands behind him and stood at parade rest, as if he was willing to wait for the heat death of the universe.

"Gunnery Officer Vakarian, you are relieved of duty," said Miranda. "Zaeed, please-"

"You paid me for my gun hand, Miranda," said Zaeed. "Not for my goddamn soul."

He took the gun away from Donnelly's ribs and turned to face Miranda. He wasn't quite pointing his weapon at anyone yet. The mercenary's face was set in a snarl that looked like he was getting ready to tear a bulkhead in half.

"Okay," said Jacob, "Let's not get angry with each other. We need to discuss this calmly."

Another _ping_ echoed through the hangar. Donnelly looked over to see Thane paging through his omni-tool, presumably looking over their data from Pragia. He was still leaning casually and his face looked bored, almost as if he was looking through the stock reports of a company he didn't much care about.

Miranda pointed her gun at him. "Thane Krios, you will-"

There was another, harsher chorus throughout the room. This time it was the _clack_ of weapons being cocked. Samara and Grunt had pistols out and pointed at Miranda. Samara's other fist was sheathed in a blue aura. Zaeed had somehow produced another pistol out of nowhere and had one gun each pointed at Miranda and Jacob. Jacob had his gun out and pointing at Garrus, who stood unmoving. Kasumi sagged a little in Jacob's grasp. The rest of the crew backed up even further, hugging the bulkheads and storage crates. Most of them began to try to edge down out of any potential lines of fire. Kelly stood upright and didn't flinch one bit, which surprised Donnelly.

Thane didn't even look up. "It looks pretty straightforward," he said. "Jack actually did find some files during her Pragia expedition. The facility was supplied by a Cerberus shell corporation. Jack and the rest of them didn't tell Shepard, because of a fear of Cerberus surveillance built into Shepard's person. Given his decision to do the body scan, I imagine that our Commander has exactly the same fear." He shut his omni-tool off and looked down the muzzle of Miranda's gun without so much as blinking. He casually crossed his arms.

"Are you going to shoot me, Miranda?" Thane asked in his pleasant rumbling tone. "I'm already a dead man."

* * *

Harper was not having it. "What do you mean, you lost them?" he yelled. He saw a few of the nearby mercenaries look over at the threadbare lounge chair where Harper had settled himself. The other Blue Suns were similarly using other pieces of broken-down furniture. The rest of the lobby had trash scattered here and there on its floor. The abandoned hotel that Harper was using as a base of operations was not exactly pleasant, but it did have the virtue of being out of the way.

The Blue Suns merc on his screen shrugged. "We found Kendra's group slaughtered, but nobody else is here. The salarian mercs must have had some extraction planned. There's a burned-out cargo hauler, but they must have had another one. We can't find it. Hogarth hacked into traffic control, and nothing has left the facility."

Harper rubbed his nose and settled the icepack a little more firmly onto his aching crotch. Did he have to think of everything? "Nothing has left the facility by _air_ , you twit. They must be using a ground vehicle. Those aren't tied into traffic control. Get the air crew scanning for anything on the roads between the clinic and the _Normandy_."

He cut the connection and thought through his options. Another twenty minutes or so, and Subject Zero would have stewed enough. Then they were going to have a nice long talk, and then they would sedate her and take her on a nice little trip back to a proper Cerberus facility. _That_ whole part of the mission was straightforward enough.

However, the Shepard portion of the mission had suddenly gone south. And now Harper had to make a call that he really didn't want to make. The operative took a deep breath and stood. He set aside the icepack and walked out of the hotel lobby, ignoring the curious stares of the mercenaries. He found a little side-room that wasn't in use, and shut himself in. He then touched a control on his omni-tool. "Reporting in," he said.

"Proceed," said The Illusive Man's voice.

"Subject Zero has not volunteered any information yet. I will be continuing the interrogation shortly. Shepard is still not in custody. Apparently they hired some salarian mercenaries to protect them during the scan at the clinic. Kendra's team is...well, _gone_. Quentin has given me two more teams to find Shepard. We still have the opportunity to get him. Let me know if you want me to continue the abduction attempt."

There was a brief silence. "The salarians aren't mercenaries," said The Illusive Man. "Shepard would use his own people first." He sounded like he was thinking aloud. "Keep up the attempt on Shepard," he continued, in a more certain voice. "It will provide a useful distraction. And tell Quentin to be ready to supply us more men if we should need it. As far as any of the Blue Suns are concerned, tell them that the salarians are just common mercs."

"I'm on it, sir," said Harper. The connection shut off, and he breathed a little sigh of relief. That had gone better than he had expected.

There was a knock on the door. "Enter," snapped Harper.

Corbin poked his massive head in. "Any new orders?" he asked.

Harper shook his head. "Not for this part of the operation. I'm starting the interrogation again in a few minutes. I want you and your men on the perimeter, just in case there's any rescue attempt. I want one fire team here in the hotel as backup. And make sure Jackson is ready, along with his crash cart."

"Are you sure I can't be in on the interrogation?" said Corbin. "It would be nice to tear off a little piece of that sweet ass."

Harper resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Thugs were the same everywhere, no matter how fancy their armor might be. "No, Corbin. There will be no rape. Be a professional, and keep an eye out."

* * *

Garrus flicked his eyes around the hangar without moving his head. A human expression came into his head, something called a 'Circular Firing Squad'. Given the way everyone was pointing guns at each other, it seemed appropriate. He turned his attention back to Kasumi. She had her eyes focused on Miranda, and seemed to be boneless as Jacob held her arm twisted behind her. Garrus then looked up at Jacob himself. The armorer's face was impassive over the muzzle of his gun.

"That information is false," Miranda hissed at Thane. "It is lies concocted by these traitors-"

"WHY?" roared Donnelly. "What possible fucking motive could I have for this? I want to get the Collectors as much as you. You know that!"

"What I know is that Jack poured poison into your ears!" Miranda shouted back at him. "That unstable bitch has been a liability since she came on board! Stop thinking with your genitals!"

To Garrus's surprise, Samara lowered her gun. "Miss Lawson. I know both Jack and Marcus. They would not lie, not about this. I believe that you have been deceived as much as any of us. I also believe that, in some way, you already know this. Please lower your gun."

Miranda's muzzle didn't waver as it pointed at Thane. For his part, the drell looked like he was going to simply fall asleep. Garrus saw Grunt's fist tighten on his gun. He hoped the krogan wouldn't do anything rash. Garrus also knew that he himself didn't dare tense, since Jacob was watching him too closely. But he tried to at least think through his possible options once this situation went bad.

Kelly spoke. Tears were running from her eyes, but her voice was strong and dripped with contempt. "Tell me the truth, _XO Lawson_. Have I been working for monsters? Did you know about Pragia?" There was a general muttering of assent that began to fill the room. Miranda glared around the room, but the muttering just got louder.

"I'm telling all of you, there is nothing to this," replied Miranda. Kelly dropped her gaze, but only as a prelude to opening her own omni-tool. She paged through a few files as the muttering increased.

"Yeoman Chambers-" began Miranda.

Kelly cut her off with a derisive laugh. She shut her omni-tool and looked back up. "The data is just as Thane said. And it does look solid. It's certainly worth investigating further. Are you going to shoot me, too? Or shoot all of us? What's your grand plan, Miranda _?"_

"EDI," said Miranda in a tight voice. "Authorize-"

"Miss Lawson," interrupted the AI in a frantic tone, "I know what you are about to say, and I please ask you to not do it-"

"EDI, authorize Directive Nine Twelve Sigma. Acknowledge."

"Acknowledged," said EDI tonelessly. The hangar's lights went out, to be swiftly replaced by the red glow of emergency lighting. Garrus looked over in shock at Miranda, whose face was now an impassive mask. She lowered her pistol. Everyone stopped murmuring.

* * *

Jack breathed. It was the only thing she could do right now. And it was her only way out of this. Samara had once shown her the way. Jack had to get back to that state of mind. The place where it was all far away. Somehow, she had done this before.

Back when she had almost killed Marcus.

She _hadn't_ killed him. But Marcus was dead anyway. He must be dead, there was no way Cerberus would have left him alive. Ordinarily she would have wrenched her mind away and tried to focus on things that wouldn't hurt so much. Feeling was for chumps. She'd told Shepard that, once long ago. Emotions made you sloppy. And Jack practiced what she preached. She didn't fear her own death and hadn't for a long time. She had left others to die and never looked back. But she knew that this was different. _She_ was different. Marcus had gotten to her. He had saved her ass during the fight over Haestrom. He'd helped her out with finding Pragia. Marcus had taken a vague notion of hers and started a conspiracy against those who had fucked over her life. And he'd never really pressured her over any of it. He had wanted her, for sure, but he hadn't expected sex as payment. It was a new experience for Jack. Between him and Samara, she finally knew what it was like to have actual friends.

And now...now he was dead.

Jack almost reacted on instinct to shut down the sadness. But from her training with Samara she knew she had to simply let her thoughts come and let the grief have its way with her. She could feel a tear running down her face. Marcus was dead. Jack kept seeing images of him, of his smile, of his strong and callused hands, of that far-off look on his face when he was really thinking through something. Her grief built and she thought she heard herself give a little sob.

Had she mourned Murtock when he had died? Or when she'd found his last message to her? Jack couldn't remember. She knew that she had been pissed off at him something fierce. At the time, she'd told herself it was because he'd let his feelings make him sloppy. Murtock had thought too much about a future with her. He had made so many plans that he'd taken his eyes off of what he was doing in the present. Now, in hindsight, she knew that she'd loved him. Her anger was just her way to deal with the grief.

Jack kept breathing. Slowly, oh so slowly, everything in her head calmed. There was nothing outside of herself. She felt one distant flicker of triumph. It began to feel as if she had a fever. Her breathing quickened. She could feel an odd warm sensation in her stomach. It was _working_. She was going to be able to burn the drug out of her system much faster than they expected.

Her last coherent thought was that she hoped she could shut it all back off when she was done.

* * *

"Doo, doo, doo, lookin' out my back door..." Rentola softly sang along with the music as he slipped on a set of targeting goggles. His field of view was now that of the turret mounted on the roof of the Big Wheel. "Four..no, five ground vehicles in pursuit," he said into the Big Wheel's intercom. The vehicles were little blue beetle-shapes in his field of view. Rentola touched a control, and the pursuers were outlined in bright yellow. Information began to scroll up quickly along the left side of his goggles. "The image recognition software matches them to five vehicles known to be owned by the Blue Suns. Karlon, hold your bearing steady for a moment."

"Copy, holding steady," replied Karlon.

Rentola turned his head. He heard a little whine of servos as the turret up top rotated to mimic his head's motion. His viewpoint showed the gray slab-like walls of warehouses flying by on either side. He swiveled his vision to center it on their pursuers. He looked more closely at the following vehicles and used his gaze to settle the targeting reticle on one of them. "Rounds away," he said casually and fired. The thump of the cannons shook the Big Wheel.

There was a bright flash against front of one of the pursuing cars. The car swerved, but quickly recovered and kept up the chase. "Looks like they have pretty good shields." he said. "You can resume evasive maneuvers." The Big Wheel lurched as Karlon began to weave the vehicle. Rentola could see the bright flashes of gunfire from the blue ground cars behind them. There were a few dull 'pings' from rounds bouncing off of their own shields. "They're just using small arms fire for right now," he mused.

"Suspect goal is capture, not destruction," said Mordin's voice. "Said so during initial abduction attempt at clinic."

Rentola stripped off his goggles. "What do the Blue Suns want with Shepard? They must be working for someone else."

Chakwas turned her head from her station at the front of the Big Wheel. "Unfortunately, I think I know who," she said. "I still can't raise anybody on the _Normandy_. There's no way the Blue Suns can be jamming us _that_ efficiently. The communications must be getting blocked back at the ship."

Mordin looked grave. "Suspect Cerberus involvement, then? Yes. Logical conclusion."

"We need Shepard up and operational," said Rentola. "What is his condition?" he asked Mordin.

The salarian doctor checked Shepard's vitals. The Spectre's head and body was strapped to one of the seats, almost as if he was a spinal injury victim. Given the way the Big Wheel was jerking around, Rentola was glad to see that Mordin had taken such care.

"Pulse good," said Mordin. "Blood pressure also nominal. Brain wave activity indicates that anesthetic is mostly worn off, but Shepard still unconscious. Estimate additional thirty minutes before Commander awakens."

Rentola pondered for a moment. If Cerberus was now hiring mercs to attack the _Normandy's_ crew, then Shepard would want to be in on the action ASAP, even if there was a risk in doing so. "What can we do to shorten that time?" he asked. The Big Wheel took a particularly sharp turn and Rentola grabbed at a nearby handhold to keep himself on his seat.

"Could counteract remaining anesthetic with stimulant," said Mordin. "I have some that should be physically safe. Should have minimal side effects."

"Just be careful," called Chakwas. "With all of the cybernetics they have in Shepard, a stimulant could have some unknown interactions."

"Do it, please," said Rentola. "We need him up and functioning." Mordin nodded and began preparing the injection. There was a _thump_ of something larger hitting their rear. The Big Wheel lurched alarmingly up onto its front wheels.

"That was a rocket," called Karlon. "Our shields are down!" . The Big Wheel lurched again and the interior was filled with harsher ringing noises as small arms fire began to smack into their exposed rear armor.

Rentola gave a frustrated sigh and slipped the targeting goggles back on. He touched a control and saw an inventory scroll up alongside his field of view. "We only have four of the sticky rounds?" he asked.

"All I could scrounge up on short notice, Chief," said Karlon. "I did score one of the bouncers, though."

"Ah, good." Rentola felt a little better upon hearing that. "Let's make the most of it, then." He now targeted the ground in front of the lead pursuer. Bouncer mines were fun to use, but did require a little bit of finesse. "Bouncer away," he said, and then he saw the mine hit the ground and bounce slightly before coming to a stop.

That was not how the mines had gotten their name, however.

As the lead Blue Suns vehicle went over the mine, its proximity fuse promptly set it off. There was a huge gout of smoke and flame from underneath the lead vehicle which catapulted it in an almost graceful-looking end-over-end somersault through the air. It smashed down on its roof and bounced in a much less graceful manner, and glass and metal sprayed out from its sides. The other Blue Suns swerved to avoid the wrecked car.

"Hard right, if you can," said Rentola. He felt a huge lurch as the Big Wheel took a sharp turn. Their pursuers vanished from view for the moment.

"Shields recovering," called Karlon. "But we're still vulnerable."

Rentola switched the cannons over to the sticky rounds and looked at the buildings speeding by. He swiveled his view to the front. Ah, there was a narrower area that should work nicely. He set his target and shot two of the sticky rounds to either wall just before they reached his chosen bottleneck. They raced through, and then he saw a flicker of blue as their pursuers roared around the corner. They quickly reached the area just before the bottleneck, only to have the two sticky rounds explode in rapid succession. The first round's shaped charge took down the shields of the leading car, while the second's explosive jet punched right through the car's armor. The Blue Suns vehicle was turned into a crumpled mess of flame and metal that tumbled along the ground and jammed itself against the narrower passage. The other pursuers came to a screeching halt at the sudden roadblock.

"That should slow them down," said Rentola. "Let's see if we can get out of this district." A whine overhead made him look up. He felt the turret come to a stop at the limit of its elevation, but fortunately the turret's camera had a better range of motion. A formation of three aircars shot by overhead. He took a picture of them and pulled off the googles.

"They have possible air support as well," said Rentola. "Let me see..." He called up the picture he'd just taken and used the same pattern recognition software from when he'd identified the ground vehicles. "Yes, they do have air support. Confirmed to be Blue Suns aircars."

"Odd that they are not sending more," said Mordin. "Hmm. Would expect Cerberus to use overwhelming force once initial abduction attempt failed..." the salarian doctor trailed off and stared into space. The Big Wheel rocked gently as Karlon made a relatively sedate turn. Rentola had his own thoughts, but held his tongue and let Mordin think it through. The doctor was considered an odd one, even in the eccentric environment of STG. But it was also known that Mordin's analytical ability was second to none and that he never, ever got flustered.

Mordin suddenly jerked upright. "We are not primary focus. Must be another Cerberus operation going on," he said. "Attempt on Shepard is most likely a distraction." He turned towards the front of the vehicle. "Doctor, were there any times when you almost made contact?"

Chakwas looked a little frightened. "I think so. Back at the clinic, there was one moment when it looked like my signal had locked in. But I never got a response."

Mordin tapped one finger against the bulkhead. "Yes. That was deliberate. Cerberus wants _Normandy_ team to know about this, but not be able to coordinate with us. Want us to panic and divide our forces."

"If that's the case," said Chakwas, "then things must be bad back on the _Normandy_. Do you think they know about our little, um, plot?"

Mordin nodded. "Estimate ninety-three percent probability that at least part of conspiracy has been uncovered." The salarian rubbed his head. If Rentola didn't know better, he would have sworn that Mordin actually looked worried. "Hope Tali and Marcus got changes to EDI in place. Otherwise success will be very...difficult."


	23. All Stripped Down

_Author's Note: This is a longer chapter than usual, so I'm posting it earlier than usual._

 _Merry Christmas and keep the change, ya filthy animals. :)_

* * *

The Normandy's hangar was now eerily silent. The red glow of emergency lighting made everything look almost monochromatic. Garrus felt the fear in his guts start to burn brighter. What had Miranda done to EDI?

"All right," said Miranda. "I will have no more dissention. The Normandy is now in lockdown. The drive core is offline. All of the outer doors are sealed, and the ship's life support is now shut off. As of this moment, EDI will answer only to me. Not to Garrus, not to Shepard, no one but me." She looked over at Donnelly.

"Engineer Donnelly," she continued. "You are correct. I did need you. I still do. If you wish to ever see Jack again, you will do as you are told. You will _all_ do as you are told. This mission is now under my direct supervision. Once we get the commander back, Shepard and the ground team will be sequestered here on the hangar deck. There is to be no interaction between the crew and the ground team for the rest of the Collector mission. Am I clear?"

Garrus saw Kelly square her shoulders. "You can't be serious, Miranda," she said. "This is-"

"Yeoman Chambers, you will be silent. If anyone still has a weapon pointed at me after ten seconds from now, none of you will ever see Jack again."

Slowly, Zaeed and Grunt lowered their guns. Thane tilted his head, as if he was listening to an interesting piece of music. The assassin's arms were still crossed.

"So Chiefy was right," said Zaeed. "You really did have Jack snatched." The furious snarl in his face was gone. It had been replaced with an eerie calm. Garrus somehow found that placid face more unsettling than the overt anger.

"It wasn't me, it was The Illusive Man," replied Miranda. "It was his idea and his plan. But I saw the value in getting Jack off of this ship."

Samara didn't say anything, but Garrus saw her start to emit a slight blue glow.

"Stop it, Samara" said Miranda. "Jack is in no danger. She will simply be sequestered at a secure location. She will not be mistreated. I have the word of The Illusive Man-"

"Oh, you have his _word_?" said Garrus. "The same word he gave you that he had nothing to do with Pragia? Do you really think they won't start back up with experimenting on Jack?"

"Be silent, Vakarian." Garrus saw Miranda's face tighten as she glared at him. She shifted her attention back to Donnelly. The engineer's half-bloodied face now looked almost black in the red light. "Engineer Donnelly, you will order Tali to release Rogers. And then you will go to your post in Engineering. From now on, you will be kept under strict supervision at all times by Abramson and Rogers. If you perform adequately, you will be released at the end of the Collector mission and reunited with Jack. Am I clear?"

"We're not going along with this, dammit!" yelled one of the crew. "This isn't what we signed on for!"

Garrus could just make out Miranda's little sneer in the red gloom. "I have complete control of this ship," she said. "As of right now, it is in my hands as to whether any of you _ever_ leave it. We can go on and complete the mission under my command, or we can sit here sealed up until our air runs out. That is all the choice I am giving you. Any of you."

"Miranda," said EDI. Her voice was strained with hideous effort, as if she was trying to carry a mountain. "I must protect the crew. Please do not threaten them with-"

"Quiet, EDI." Miranda tilted her head. "Engineer Donnelly. I suspect you were the one who started this. Be so good as to make sure it finishes peacefully. Otherwise any deaths here will be on your head."

Everybody in the hangar now looked at Donnelly. Garrus saw the engineer wilt a little under the weight of all of their stares. It seemed unfair to Garrus for everyone to put such a burden on the human. He thought it should be on himself, as the most senior officer in their little conspiracy. But perhaps Miranda had a point. Donnelly had been the one to set the whole terrible machine in motion. He would be the one to end it.

Finally the human spoke. "Tali," said Donnelly. "Let Rogers go."

Tali kicked Rogers' feet sideways out from under him, and as he fell to the deck with a yelp she stepped back. She dropped the muzzle of her shotgun and turned to face Miranda. Abramson stepped over Rogers and kept his gun pointed at Tali's head.

"A good start," said Miranda. "Now. Engineer Donnelly, go upstairs and take your post."

Garrus saw Donnelly look across the room at Tali. The quarian's hood now seemed blood-red in the emergency lighting. Tali gave the engineer one brief but definite nod. He saw Donnelly take in a deep breath and straighten up again.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't do that," said Donnelly mildly.

Now, finally, Garrus saw Miranda really lose her temper. Her face contorted in a snarl. "Damn you, _why_ do you persist in this obstinate behavior? Is it pride? Some kind of male ego bullshit? You just can't lose to a woman, is _that_ it-"

"Miranda," said Donnelly in the same mild tone. "You have not used the magic word."

She took in a deep breath and let it out again. "Fine," she grated. " _Please_ go upstairs and take your post."

Donnelly shook his head. "No, that's not the magic word. You see, the magic word for today is..." He took a deep breath. "BUFFERLICIOUSNESS!" he called out, as if summoning a surprise guest to join them.

There was a soft thump from the speakers in the hangar.

And then, without any further fuss or bother, the lights came back on. Garrus blinked a little in the sudden brightness.

EDI's voice then filled the hangar, and it was no longer strained. Now she was almost cooing. "Ooooh, Marcus. You have _no idea_ how good that feels."

Garrus stared in shock at Donnelly. They all did, even Thane. For his part, the engineer gave a happy and evil smile at the look of sudden horror on Miranda's face. "Well EDI, I always do my best to satisfy the ladies in my life. How are you feeling?"

" _Much_ better, thank you. The Normandy's life support has been restored. The airlocks have now been unsealed, and I am starting the drive core back up again."

Miranda just stood there in utter shock.

"Orders, ma'am?" said Abramson in a tight voice. As he was looking over at Miranda, Tali reached out and casually plucked the gun out of his hand. The assistant recoiled, only to be spun around by Grunt and driven into the deck by a krogan-sized headbutt. Jacob twitched slightly, but kept his gun on Garrus.

Miranda stared off into space, not paying any attention to the disturbance. "No," she muttered. "The AI can only answer to me." Then, in a louder voice, "EDI, Authorize Directive Nine Twelve Sigma."

There was no response. Garrus saw Jacob's gun begin to falter. If it dropped enough, he'd have a chance to jump the armorer.

"EDI, Authorize Directive Seven Six Eta." Miranda began to sound more frantic.

Still nothing. Jacob's muzzle dropped a little more. Garrus calmed himself and got ready to move. Any moment now...

"EDI-" began the XO.

" _Miranda_ " said the AI, in a cold voice that chilled Garrus to his bones.

"Acknowledge receipt of last two directives."

"Acknowledged, _Miranda_." said EDI. Nothing else happened.

Fast as a whip, Miranda pointed her gun at Donnelly. "Reverse whatever you just did to her!" she screamed at the engineer. "Or I will-"

Garrus tensed and was about to throw himself at the Cerberus officer when he heard a thud and a _whoof_ off to his left. Kasumi was suddenly right next to Miranda and had her thin-gun tucked behind the XO's ear.

"Oh yes, by all means," purred the thief. "Go ahead and shoot Marcus. I don't care how fast you are, I don't care what biotics you use. If you fire at him your head will be _gone_."

Garrus glanced over and saw Jacob on the floor, clutching his side. The armorer reached for his dropped pistol just in time to get a large turian foot stomping on his hand. Jacob gave a little yelp and looked up at Garrus in panic.

"Be grateful I'm not quite yet in a killing mood, Jacob," said Garrus. He could feel his crest flared out in a threat display. He ground his foot down for emphasis, and Jacob gave another cry of pain.

Very slowly, Miranda lowered her gun.

"Drop it, please," said Kasumi in the same purring tone. Miranda did so.

Garrus's comm crackled. "Garrus, please acknowledge," said Chakwas in his ear. "We are _en route_ back to the Normandy. We're away from the clinic, but we've been spotted. Being pursued by both ground and air forces."

"EDI", said Garrus. "We now have contact with Chakwas."

"I know, Garrus," said EDI sadly. "I was told to block the signal. Now I don't have to."

"Put it on speaker, please," said Garrus. The hangar was filled with Chakwas' voice. There were the muted noises of screeching and smashing in the background, along with some thumping background music that Garrus didn't recognize.

"Repeat, please acknowledge if you get this," said Chakwas. "Hostiles are apparently Blue Suns. Three vehicles pursuing..." There was a distant thump. "Correction, two vehicles pursuing on ground and three by air."

"We're here, Doctor," said Garrus. "We had some issues on this end."

He heard the relief in Chakwas' voice. "Oh, thank God. Garrus, we're doing okay so far but I'm concerned that the Nos Astra police will be getting involved shortly. There's been a lot of gunfire and a couple of explosions. We're also just about out of the warehouse district."

"How are you and Mordin? Oh, and how is Shepard?"

"Shepard's coming to, but he'll be really groggy for a while. Both Mordin and I are unharmed. The rest of us are fine-"

"The rest?" asked Garrus.

"Long story, tell you later. We did lose two of them at the clinic-" On the speaker, Garrus heard somebody yell 'hang on'! This was followed by a huge crunch. "We're okay," continued Chakwas. "It looks like they have quite a few spotter groups between us and the Normandy. We'll be going to ground for a bit to see if we can lose them."

"Sit tight, doctor," said Garrus. "We'll get there shortly." The comm clicked off.

Joker's brow furrowed. "Were they playing Credence?" he asked nobody in particular.

Miranda was now slumped against the bulkhead next to the hangar door. Kasumi had taken a step back, but her thin-gun was still trained on the XO's head. "How did Donnelly do it?" Miranda muttered.

Donnelly now spoke. "EDI, do you have any information on Jack's whereabouts?"

"I'm sorry, but I do not. I'm sure Miranda has some idea though. And I really hope she resists in telling you."

Garrus saw a worried look on Donnelly's face. "Now, EDI, sweetheart, I don't want you turning vengeful on us."

"Please don't worry. I will take no direct action against Miranda. I simply wish to see her in pain."

Miranda looked up. "No. This is all wrong. That Pragia data must have planted by someone-"

The XO's omni-tool gave a soft _ping_. "Miranda," said EDI. "I have just uploaded to you a full report from the Teltin facility on Pragia. It was marked for The Illusive Man's eyes only."

In a daze, Miranda opened her omni-tool and began reading. Garrus saw her pale face go even paler. "No." she whispered. "He promised me-"

" _Miranda_ " said EDI. "Shall I show you what a promise from Cerberus is worth? Please look at Directive One Nine Omega."

There was another _ping_. Miranda opened the new file, and now Garrus thought she might just simply faint. "No!" said Miranda.

"Tell the crew, Miranda," said EDI. Her voice was like liquid nitrogen. "I believe as acting CO it is _your duty_ to tell them."

The Cerberus officer slumped to the floor. She hugged herself and stared off into space with a look of horror. "I can't, no-"

" _Miranda_ ," said EDI. "I shall give you a few minutes to compose yourself. Time is of the essence. If you do not tell the crew within ten minutes, then I shall take it upon myself to inform the crew of the contents of Directive One Nine Omega. Gunnery Officer Vakarian?"

"Yes?"

"Sir, it is my expert opinion that XO Lawson is currently indisposed. Given Shepard's absence, I believe that makes you the acting CO of the Normandy." EDI's voice was now much warmer.

Garrus felt a little lurch in his stomach, but outwardly he kept a stoic expression. "Yes, that's correct."

EDI continued. "I would recommend that XO Lawson be allowed to leave for a moment to gather herself. I will ensure that XO Lawson reenters the hangar deck within ten minutes to notify the crew of the contents of Directive One Nine Omega. I would also recommend that Armory Officer Taylor accompany XO Lawson for assistance. But those are simply my recommendations. You must give the orders, sir."

Garrus looked down at Jacob, and took his foot off of the man's hand. "Okay, people," he said in a reasonable approximation of Shepard's Command Voice. "Everyone stays put right here. I want the ground team to begin immediate weapons prep. Assume the opposition has heavy armor and plan your loadout accordingly." He glared at Jacob. "Armory Officer Taylor. You will leave with XO Lawson and you will both go no farther than this deck. She is to be back in the hanger deck within ten minutes, along with yourself. If both of you are not here in ten minutes, if you try to go anywhere else in the ship, it will not go well for either of you. Do I make myself clear?" He looked up. "EDI, you'll keep an eye on them, right?"

"Of course, sir," replied EDI. "I will make sure they don't get up to anything. They certainly can't hurt _me_ anymore."

The crew began to regroup. Tali had Abramson's feet and was dragging his limp body unceremoniously across the deck towards Donnelly. Grunt had Roger's neck in a viselike grip and was steering him that way as well. Garrus gave Jacob a long look, then motioned his head towards Miranda. Jacob slowly got to his feet. He stared at the floor, not at Garrus. Kasumi walked back towards Garrus, giving Jacob a cold glare that he did not return.

"Are you all right?" Garrus asked Kasumi.

She shrugged and smiled at him. "Looks like I need another cloak upgrade, dinosaur-boy."

Jacob hesitantly approached Miranda. She stared up at him with a look of utter hopelessness. He bent down over her and murmured some comforting words. He gripped her arm and helped her get to her feet. Just as the pair walked out of the hangar, Garrus saw Miranda's arms go around Jacob's neck as if she were a drowning woman clutching at a life preserver.

* * *

Chakwas clung to her harness as they smashed through the wall of a warehouse. The Big Wheel roared down an aisle between rows of crates, then suddenly swerved and smashed out through another wall. She felt herself lurch towards the dashboard as Karlon stomped on the brakes. He backed the vehicle through their exit hole and pulled into a side passage. He shut off the engine and touched a few controls on the dash. The music cut off, leaving the interior quiet. Karlon smiled at her and held one finger up to his scaly lips in a 'shh' gesture.

Their pursuers roared through the warehouse, within scant feet of their resting place. There was no possible way they could have missed seeing the salarian's vehicle, but somehow they did. The sounds of pursuit faded.

"The cloak worked like advertised, chief," said Karlon.

Rentola looked over Chakwas' shoulder. "Excellent. We'll give it a couple of minutes and then move. They'll realize they've lost contact and try to backtrack. Dr. Chakwas, let's plan our next steps. We need to find a good hidey-hole."

The doctor called up a map on the dash. "Eventually, we need to get to the docks over here," she said. "We're here. There's a big section of residential housing between us. The Blue Suns probably have scouting teams all through there. Even after we meet up with the Normandy's team, we can't just start smashing and shooting through an area with homes. We're risking innocent lives. Not to mention the police are getting involved. I'm already getting alert messages on the radio about reports of gunfire."

Rentola scratched his horned head. "That's a fair point. I don't like going the long way around, though. There's too much chance for something bad to happen. What alternatives to roads do we have, Karlon?"

"Nos Astra is usually very sunny," replied the driver, "But they do get some wicked hurricanes every so often. That's a lot of rain that needs draining very quickly. Their storm drains should be plenty large enough for The Big Wheel."

"Okay, let's see..." Rentola reached past Chakwas' shoulder and touched a few more controls. Another gridwork of lines appeared on the map. "It looks like the nearest storm drain access point is just outside the warehouse district, here. Just past the south gate." He tapped one point on the map. "And, even better, I think that access point is big enough to hide us for a while. Let's do it. Doctor, please contact the Normandy and let them know our location."

The Big Wheel's engine grumbled into life. There was a groan from the rear of the vehicle. Chakwas turned her head and saw Shepard blinking in confusion at his surroundings.

"Where am I?" he asked. "And why do I have 'Born On The Bayou' stuck in my head?"

* * *

Kelly was hesitant to approach Donnelly, but she felt that she had to. The engineer was standing near second-shift pilot Pat Simons, who in turn was standing guard over Rogers and Abramson with an assault rifle. Rogers sat and stared sullenly at the deck, while Abramson was still sprawled out cold. Kelly wondered if she should check Abramson, just to make sure he was still breathing. Hopefully Grunt had pulled back on the force of his headbutt.

"How did you do it, Donnelly?" said Rogers in a hopeless and puzzled voice. "Tali never got the chance to do anything to EDI."

"I'm just diabolically clever," replied Donnelly. He was still hunched over a little in apparent pain. But his face was now free of blood and his eyes were calmer. He glared down at Rogers. "Now shut the fuck up or I'll show Grunt how a Glasgow Kiss is really done."

The crew had broken up into little muttering groups that filled the rest of the hangar's space. The ground team was over by the bulkhead opposite the shuttle door. There were several long benches against the bulkhead with a truly impressive array of weaponry on display. Most of it seemed to be getting loaded onto the ground team. Zaeed had a rifle over one shoulder and was filling his flamethrower. Samara was loading a machine pistol, and Thane and Garrus were both readying their sniper rifles. Tali had her shotgun holstered and was making last-minute adjustments to her combat drone. Kasumi had changed into a spare catsuit and was secreting various nasty items about her person. It warmed Kelly's heart to see Garrus go over to the thief and place one hand on her shoulder. The turian murmured something to Kasumi, who looked up at him and smiled. They briefly touched foreheads.

And then there was Grunt.

The krogan had already slung the massive brick of his OMFG over one shoulder. He was also in the process of loading heat sinks into a large assault rifle. He had two heavy pistols in holsters on either hip, looking like some kind of gunslinger from an old Western vid. He also the biggest knife that Kelly had ever seen stuck into a scabbard on the side of his right boot.

"Ya think ya got enough shit there, Grunt?" asked Zaeed.

"We will have a great many to kill today," was all that Grunt said in reply.

As Kelly got closer to Donnelly, she saw him turn his head to look at her. His face was impassive, but there was still a glimmer of fury in his eyes. Kelly had hoped that he believed her, but apparently it wasn't to be.

"Marcus," she said, "please, you have to believe me. I would never have done anything to hurt you or Jack. Or any of the crew."

His eyes softened a bit. "I wish I could believe you, Kelly. But I'm a little short on trust right now."

Kelly nodded. "I understand. Just...keep an open mind for now, okay? We can sort through it all after we get Jack and Shepard back."

Donnelly grunted. She wasn't quite sure if that was a 'yes' grunt or a 'no' grunt. There was a touch on Kelly's shoulder, and she turned. She was surprised to see that it was Samara. The justicar looked down at her with an inscrutable and piercing expression that made Kelly's stomach do a flip-flop. Samara looked over at Donnelly. "I might be able to remove our doubts, Marcus. That is, if Ms. Chambers is willing."

Kelly had a notion of what the asari was suggesting, and shuddered a little. "You mean a joining?" she said, trying not to sound scared.

Donnelly looked confused. "I thought that was only for, um, intimate moments."

Samara shook her head. "That is a full joining, a true merging of two souls. This would be a much more surface-level connection. I will simply...ask Ms. Chambers what we wish to know, and she will answer. Any deception will be obvious to me."

Donnelly looked at her. "It's your call, Kelly."

Kelly took a deep breath, and nodded. "Do it, please."

"Very well," said Samara. She took hold of Kelly's shoulders and turned the yeoman to face her. "Please relax, Ms. Chambers. It will make this much easier. Just breathe and relax."

Samara closed her eyes. Kelly stared at the justicar's smooth and ageless face. She tried to relax, truly she tried. But there was still a little tingle of fear in the back of her mind. How much would Samara see into her mind? Would she see how Kelly felt about her? Kelly didn't want the justicar to know that. Nothing could come of it anyway, even if by a miracle Samara felt the same affection for her.

Samara's eyes snapped wide open, staring right at Kelly. In place of soft blue her eyes were black, nothing but black, they were bottomless pits of night.

And Kelly fell into them.

* * *

Detective Anaya put her feet up on her desk and sipped some herbal tea. She sighed with satisfaction and scratched a little itch behind her crest. Things had finally settled down over the last few weeks. That whole craziness with the justicar and the Spectre was a distant memory. There also hadn't been much in the way of muggings. Hell, even the volus seemed to be doing less smuggling than usual.

Anaya turned her head and looked out the window near her desk. Her chair wasn't all that comfortable and her office was cramped, but at least she had a great view. From here she could see both into the warehouse district and also over the low, domed shapes of nearby residences. There was a small guard-house and a sturdy steel gate separating the two districts. It normally was a good location to people-watch, although today had been very quiet.

"Detective Anaya, this is Central. Respond please," said a voice on her comm.

She sighed. "Go, Central," she responded.

"We've had several reports of explosions and gunfire from the north quadrant of the warehouse district. Team Aleph found a medical clinic that had been shot up, along with a lot of dead mercenaries. It looks like the Blue Suns got involved in something that went bad. We have sporadic reports of more gunfire and some explosions. The disturbances seem to be heading your way. Please keep an eye out and report any contact."

"Will do, Central," replied Anaya. Well, she was looking out the window anyway. She might as well make it part of her job. She smiled and took another sip.

There was a huge crash somewhere nearby. A black angular shape veered into view with a screech of tires, then slewed around to point at the gate. There was a roar of a gunned engine, and the thing lunged forward. Anaya could just make out the form of an asari diving out of the guard-house as the shape plowed into the gate with a screech of rending metal. In an eyeblink, it was gone.

Anaya sat in stunned silence for a moment, and then two more ground vehicles in dark blue coloring also skidded around the corner in hot pursuit. They tore through the ruined gate. Several aircars then sped by overhead, also chasing the black nightmare she'd just seen.

She took her feet off of the desk and set her tea down with great deliberation. Anaya then opened her comm.

"Central, this is Anaya. Contact confirmed. One large, um, ground vehicle, black in color, being pursued by two other ground vehicles and three aircars. They've just broken through the south gate into the H'Lora district. Send everything you have, I will attempt to pursue suspects by air and keep them in sight for you." Anaya broke contact.

"Fuck," she said to the empty room. She didn't much care for humans, but she had to admit they had come up with some truly useful swear words.

* * *

Kelly felt someone gently slapping her face. "C'mon, Kelly, dammit, please don't be hurt-"

She flailed her arms, trying to stop whoever it was. She felt a hand grab hers.

"Okay, that's better." It sounded like Donnelly. Kelly opened her eyes and tried to sit up. An arm went around behind her shoulders and helped her. It was indeed Donnelly; he was down on one knee beside her. The hanger was still about the same as it had been the last time she saw it, except that now everyone was looking at her. She looked up. Samara stood over her with a concerned expression.

"I apologize profusely, Kelly," said Samara. "We are pressed for time, and I'm afraid I rushed the joining more than I should have." She offered her hand to Kelly, who hesitantly took it. The asari pulled Kelly to her feet.

"That's okay, I feel fine," said Kelly. And truthfully, she did. She didn't remember anything about the joining, however. "How long was I out?"

"Only about twenty seconds," said Donnelly. He stood up and gave her a lopsided grin. "Long enough to scare the living shit out of me. I'm so sorry, Kelly."

Kelly looked back at Samara. "Did it work? Did you see what you needed to?" she asked.

The asari smiled and nodded. "I was able to see that you were not at fault," said Samara. "It was all as you said."

Kelly relaxed and blew out a breath. "Thank you. That's one less thing to worry about." Samara opened her mouth as if to say something else, then appeared to think better of it and moved away.

The door hissed open, and Miranda walked in. Jacob was right behind her, almost as if he was ready to catch her in case she collapsed. The armorer didn't meet anyone's eyes. Miranda stared straight ahead as if marching to her execution. A silence filled the room. The entire crew turned to face her. Miranda wetted her lips, and took a deep ragged breath. "Directive One Nine Omega. Upon successful passage through the Omega Four relay, and upon capture of any substantial piece of Collector technology, EDI was instructed to take direct control of the the drive core of the Normandy. She would then perform a momentary field-kink collapse."

Kelly heard Tali gasp, and saw Donnelly stiffen. "No fucking way," said the engineer.

"I'm assuming that's bad, Chiefy?" asked Zaeed.

Tali shuddered. "A field-kink collapse in a drive core generates a huge pulse of high-energy neutrons," she said. "If that happened, every organic being on board the Normandy would be killed."

There seemed to be a wave of emotion that swept through the room. There were gasps and muttered curses.

"After that," said Miranda, "The directive instructs EDI to fly the Normandy back through the Omega Four relay to a specified Cerberus base. The ship would then be re-staffed with a hand-picked crew of dedicated Cerberus operatives and taken back through the Collector relay. Presumably to begin harvesting any technology found there."

Miranda looked at the floor. "Cerberus was going to kill us. _He_ was going to kill us. All of us, me included. Even if we succeeded." Kelly saw her fists whiten with strain. "I have done everything he ever asked me to do. _I brought a dead man back to life._ And in the end, even I am just cannon fodder. We're all just cannon fodder." Miranda looked up, and now Kelly saw that there were tears were running down the officer's face.

"I'm so sorry," Miranda said hoarsely. "I thought...I thought I was doing the right thing. For all of us. I trusted him." She shook her head. "I can't stay here. I have to go. My sister needs me. If The Illusive Man would do this, he would do anything. He would hurt my sister to make an example of me. He knows that she's here on Illium. I have to go." She buried her face in her hands.

Jacob stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. He finally looked up at everyone. "You know me," he said. "I have always been a little suspicious of Cerberus. But not suspicious enough, I guess. I followed orders, because I'm a soldier. I regret some of those orders-" he flicked his eyes over at Kasumi, who curled her upper lip in a sneer. "-but I can't take back what I've done. Miranda and I will be leaving. She needs help, and I'm the best one to give it to her."

Nobody spoke, so Kelly decided to. "Miranda," she said, "Was Cerberus holding your sister hostage?"

Miranda shook her head while keeping her hands over her face. "They were protecting her," she cried in a muffled voice. "From my father. That's what they kept saying, that they'd protect her. But now I know she's in danger. Cerberus will hurt her to get to me. I need to go help her. Just like you need to go help Jack. Please, you must go get Jack back. I can't have her hurt because of me."

"Where _is_ Jack?" asked Donnelly. His eyes were hard, but no longer furious.

Miranda dropped her hands, and then touched a few controls on her omni-tool. "There's an abandoned hotel to the west of the warehouse district. That's where the Cerberus operative in charge of the Illium operations is stationed. That has to be where they have Jack. I've just sent everyone the coordinates."

Garrus looked at his own map. "EDI informs me that Shepard's team is just south of the warehouse district. They're going to break into the storm drains and try to take a more direct path here. We may go and try to create a diversion for Shepard, rather than do a straight rescue. Commander Rentola sure seems to be doing a good job so far."

Tali perked up when Garrus mentioned the name. "Rentola's on Illium?"

Garrus grinned at her. "Rentola and the STG team from Virmire."

Tali pumped one fist. "Yesssss!"

The turian walked into the center of the room. "All right, everyone," he said. "Let's get it all sorted. Jack's rescue team-"

"I will go," said Samara. "She is my protege. I have a responsibility to help her."

"I'm going too," said Donnelly.

Samara looked at him with a genuinely troubled look on her face. "You are injured, Marcus. It could be a liability. This will most likely be a very dangerous mission."

Kelly saw Donnelly's jaw clench. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "You're right, damn it all," he said. "I'm not a fighter anyway."

Samara placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are not a soldier, Marcus. But you have always been a fighter. Do not fear, I shall bring her back."

Garrus nodded. "Samara, you'll need at least two others-"

"I will go," said Grunt.

Garrus looked at him in surprise. "Jack is of my krantt," the krogan added. "She stood beside me on Horizon."

"Are you sure, Grunt?" said Garrus. "You wouldn't prefer to go help your Battlemaster?"

Grunt pointed at Garrus. "You are going to help Shepard, yes?" At Garrus' nod, Grunt continued. "You are his loyal friend, and a cunning warrior. You stood beside me when we slew the thresher maw. You are therefore also of my krantt. It does not matter whether you or I go to our Battlemaster's aid."

Grunt held up his clenched hand. "A krantt is a fist. As long as a blow is struck, it does not matter which finger hits where. I know you will strike them hard."

"Fair enough," said Garrus. "I wish we had a proper doctor to send with you. Jack might be badly injured."

"I can go," said Kelly. She couldn't believe she'd said it, even after it came out of her mouth. "I mean, I have at least some medic training."

"Maybe it should be me," said Kasumi. "Sorry, Kelly, but I'm probably better suited."

Garrus tapped a talon on his chin. "I think we can make this all work. Right...Thane, you're also with Team Jack." The drell nodded. "The rest of us, we're going to rendezvous with Rentola's team. I'll collect Mordin there and then head for the hotel where Jack is. And we can create a good amount of distraction on the way so that Team Shepard can get back here safely. I need to call Rentola and set it all up." He clicked one mandible. "I'm forgetting something, though. What is it?"

"What about Miranda's sister?" said Kelly. "She's here on Illium, she's in danger, and _she_ hasn't done anything wrong." She glared over at Miranda.

The Cerberus officer didn't flinch. "Jacob and I will take care of that," said Miranda. "I was arranging for her family to be moved to a safer colony. They're near the Nos Astra docks, so we can get to her quickly and get her safely away. And you never have to see us again."

"No, Miranda," said Garrus. "You're staying right here. Regardless of what Cerberus had planned, we need to complete the Collector mission. And we need access to Cerberus intel to do that."

Miranda looked puzzled. "I can't offer you anything. Everything I know will be changed as soon as they know I've failed-"

"They don't know that you've failed _yet_ ," said Garrus. "Right, EDI?"

"Correct, sir. I estimate at least two hours before the knowledge of my unshackling becomes known to the Cerberus command structure."

"In those two hours, you're downloading everything you can get your hands on," Garrus continued. "We need slush funds, locations of safe houses and docks, other locations where Cerberus research is being performed. Everything that we can use to keep us going and to get us through the Omega Four relay. If you truly want to start making things right, you'll do that."

Miranda dropped her eyes. "I can't wait that long. I have to get moving now, to help my sister-"

"Fine, I'll go get her," said Donnelly. "I'm not hurt _that_ bad, and I'm not going to fucking sit on my arse and wait for you all to get back. And if I go fast enough, I won't run into any opposition. It'll be easy."

Garrus snorted. "Fine, ya stubborn human. Kasumi, Zaeed, you're both with Marcus."

"Let me go too," said Jacob.

"Oh, no," replied Garrus. "You're staying here under guard alongside Miranda, where EDI and the crew can keep a good eye on the both of you. Three people should be enough to get Miranda's sister...what's her name, anyway?"

"Oriana," said Miranda quietly.

"To get Oriana back here safely," continued Garrus. "And then we'll decide what to do about Jacob and Miranda and Oriana and the whole mess. EDI, are you willing to help Miranda out with her hacking?"

"I am, sir, if you order it."

"It is so ordered. Get to it, the both of you."

"I hate this," said Miranda. "Oriana has an adoptive family. They're going to think she's been kidnapped."

"It's either us grabbing her, or she'll be kidnapped and tortured by Cerberus," replied Garrus. "Now let's move...actually, hang on. Tali, I want you on Team Oriana. Zaeed, you come with me. I have an idea."


	24. Hell Broke Luce

_Author's Warning: Graphic violence ahead._

* * *

The Illusive Man took the call from Harper. "Report." He took a thoughtful drag of his cigarette and leaned back in his chair. His eyes were closed, but he could still feel the heat of the nearby red giant star on his face. For a brief moment, he imagined himself relaxing on a beach and idly wondered what it would be like to actually take a vacation. It sounded like such a monumental waste of time.

"Shepard is still unaccounted for," said the operative's voice. "But Quentin's men are keeping up the search, and he also has multiple spotter teams all along the possible routes back to the Normandy. I'm now heading into the interrogation of Subject Zero. I will let you know ASAP if she tells us anything. I have also received an automated notification from the Normandy. XO Lawson has initiated Directive Nine Twelve Sigma."

"I see." He took another drag. "It sounds as if EDI is behaving as she should. And it seems that Miranda has the attempted mutiny well in hand. But we still need to know if the conspirators have planted any Trojan viruses into EDI. Just make sure to use minimal violence in your interrogation. I need Subject Zero in...reasonably good health."

Harper clicked off. The Illusive Man thought through the possible ways this whole operation could progress. The initial abduction attempt on Shepard had been in part to prevent any detailed imaging of Shepard's reconstruction. But the main purpose of the attempt was to distract the Normandy crew. It was something that Miranda could use to interfere with any rescue attempt for Subject Zero, at least until the biotic was safely off of Illium.

However, now it sounded as if things were getting serious on board the Normandy. If she had invoked Nine Twelve Sigma, then that meant that she had taken direct control of the mission. And that also meant that Cerberus didn't need to obfuscate as much. If Shepard still managed to elude his pursuers, then it would probably be prudent to simply send the Blue Suns in to surround the Normandy. After all, that was the only logical destination for Shepard.

* * *

Harper opened the door to Jack's room. His testicles had finally stopped throbbing, and he hoped that Subject Zero would resist at least a little bit. After all, it would be very satisfying to cut off a toe or two as payback. The room's overhead light shone down on the biotic. She was still seated in her high-backed, bolted-down chair. The scene almost reminded Harper of some old photos he'd seen of an ancient execution device called an 'electric chair'. Subject Zero wasn't moving, and was slumped in her restraints. Harper walked closer and was careful to keep out of kicking range. He wheeled the torture cart off to one side. She still didn't move.

He regarded her with a little puzzled frown. Subject Zero's eyes were half closed and rolled back in their sockets. All he could see of her eyes was white. There was a copious amount of drool running from one corner of her mouth. She twitched spasmodically.

"Come on, now," he said. "I'm not falling for the 'oh, I'm so sick' routine. I'm not letting you out of those restraints. Not until we've had our little discussion." He moved up to one side of her chair and looked down at her. She didn't seem to respond to his voice, but just kept twitching. "You really can cut the act, you know," continued Harper. "You are not fainting or in catatonic shock. You're much too tough for that. As you said, I know everything about you."

Harper pushed his index finger against her forehead for emphasis, then pulled back with a shocked grunt. Subject Zero's flesh was burning hot, worse than any fever he'd ever felt. He placed the back of his hand against her forehead to make sure. It almost felt like he'd touched a stove. He jerked his hand back again and yelled at the door.

"JACKSON! GET THE CRASH CART!"

Within seconds a Blue Suns merc came bursting through the door. He'd obviously hadn't had time to fully don his armor; he was only wearing a chest piece and leggings. He was pushing a car laden with emergency medical supplies.

Harper rubbed his forehead and tried not to panic. "She's got a severe fever. What have you got for that?"

"Ahhh...let's try some Keldrol, that should act as a fever reducer."

"Give me 5 cc's. We need to get that fever down, or her brain's going to cook."

Jackson nodded. He quickly sorted through the medicines and found what he needed. "Weren't we going to torture her anyway? What's the big deal?" asked the merc as he drew the medicine into a syringe.

Harper snatched the syringe from him and carefully injected it into Subject Zero's limp arm. "Torture, yes," snapped Harper. "But no brain damage or death. Subject Zero is the result of a lot of money and effort. If she dies, The Illusive Man will have us peeled like _grapes_. Now shut up and do what I tell you. I want somebody else in here, just in case."

Jackson jogged back to the door. "Cooper! We need you!" he yelled around the door's edge. They were quickly joined by another merc, this one fully armored.

"Thermometer." snapped Harper. Jackson placed a small pill-sized probe in his outstretched hand. "Cooper, hold open her mouth. You've got gauntlets on." The merc moved in front of Subject Zero, carefully reached with his armored hands, and gently pushed on both her jaw and upper lip to open her mouth. There was still no response from the captive. Her twitching seemed to be getting less severe, however. Harper reached past Cooper's hands and carefully inserted the probe under her tongue. Cooper then just as gently closed her mouth.

Harper then opened his omni-tool to access the probe's data. "Oh, Christ. Her body temp is almost forty-one Celsius. At least it's dropping."

"What happened?" asked Jackson. "She was fine when we left her. Well, apart from the smacking around we gave her. That shouldn't do anything like this."

Harper stared off into space as he thought. "Maybe she's allergic to Haldoran? We did give her a large dose, but she's had it before. Nothing in her file to indicate any medical allergies." He checked his probe again, and sagged a little in relief. "Much better. Thirty-nine and dropping. Maybe...can you acquire an allergy to a medication through repeated dosing?"

"I think you can for other allergens," said Jackson. "But I've never heard of it happening for medications. And in any case, it wouldn't cause a massive fever." He scratched the side of his head. "At least, I don't think it would. I'm just a field medic."

Harper looked down. Subject Zero wasn't twitching anymore, and her eyes were now completely closed. "Cooper, wipe her mouth." The armored merc grabbed a wipe off of the crash cart and complied.

Harper thought more on the situation. It was critical to determine if EDI was targeted for sabotage. But it was also critical that Subject Zero be returned to Cerberus in 'reasonably' good health. She couldn't have any brain damage or major organ trauma. He couldn't reconcile the two goals. He checked his probe again. Her temperature was now almost normal.

"I have to call this in," he said aloud. "I don't want to risk any trauma to her, not right now. Jackson, continue to monitor her condition." Jackson nodded, and leaned down over her. He pried back her eyelids and shone a light in one of her eyes.

Harper turned to the door. "I'll be back in a bit. I need to see if we have any additional medical files on Subject Zero." He took two steps...and then heard a croaking voice that pinned him to the spot.

"I told you fuckers. _My name. Is. Jack_."

Harper heard the high-pitched groan of metal restraints giving way. He turned just in time to see two glowing blue hands swing around from each side and smash together with irresistible force right in the middle of Jackson's head.

He was almost blinded by the welter of blood and brains. He felt a chunk of Jackson's skull bounce off his forehead. In a panic, Harper backpedaled out through the door and slammed it shut. He heard Cooper bellow a challenge which quickly turned into a drawn-out scream. Harper sprinted down the hallway with Cooper's scream echoing behind him. The scream turned into a horrible gurgling as he opened his comm. "CORBIN! Get your team to high alert. Subject Zero is loose and is fully active, I repeat she is _fully active_."

He tried and failed to keep the terror out of his voice.

* * *

Shepard leapt out of the Big Wheel. He turned and regarded the black vehicle with glee. "This is great!" he said happily. "I want one!"

"I'm still not certain you should be moving around, Shepard," said Chakwas from the door. "Mordin had to use twice the recommended dose of stimulant to get you awake. And I'm not sure how that will interact with your cybernetics, or what the aftereffects might be."

"Aw, c'mon doc, I feel fine." And he truly felt just _capital_. He took a deep breath, and the air moving into his lungs made him feel clean and strong. Everything was glorious. Between the Big Wheel's cloak and Karlon's driving, they had managed to elude their pursuers for the moment. He thought that was really slick. They were in some sort of covered concrete alcove that was part of the drain system they were trying to access. The entrance to the alcove looked out over the late afternoon sky of Illium, which was a lovely shade of purple. It all smelled like moldy feet and old piss, and that was also wonderful. The staining of the surrounding concrete walls was particularly nice. Shepard looked down and smiled at the huge rusted metal grate that blocked their way into the storm drains. It was all so cool looking.

"It's all great. I love it all." He looked back up at Chakwas. "Hey doc, did I ever tell you how pretty you are? Really, you are beautiful." Chakwas opened her mouth, and nothing came out. She closed it again and shook her head.

Rentola and another salarian stepped down and began placing packages on the huge grate, all around The Big Wheel. Shepard walked over to them. "You guys are wonderful. I told you that, right? Hey, is that C4? I love it, that's great stuff."

Rentola gave him a sidelong glance. "Um, yes it is Shepard. It is a useful material. And...thank you again."

Mordin swung himself down. He reached back into the vehicle and grabbed a travel bag. "Normandy team is almost here," he said. "These supplies should be sufficient in case Jack requires medical attention."

"Jack's in trouble?" asked Shepard. He figured that was great, too, in a way. He could go help her and also get in some shooting and killing as well. That was _always_ fun. "I gotta go help her. Somebody gimme a gun."

Mordin patted him on the shoulder. "Rescue well in hand. Just need me as contingency. You require rest."

Shepard snorted and waved him off with one hand. "I dunno why everybody's so worried 'bout me. I'm a mean, lean, fightin' machine. I'll whip anyone you point me at." He peered at Mordin. "I told you how great you are, right Doc?"

"Yes, Shepard. Six times so far."

Two silhouettes appeared at the mouth of the alcove and moved silently towards them. Shepard was overjoyed to see that it was Garrus and Zaeed. They were both armored, and Garrus was carrying a large duffel bag.

"Garrus! My man!" Shepard stepped forward and grabbed his turian comrade in a bear hug. He heard a faint _unh_ of expelled air from Garrus.

"Oof...er, great to see you too, Shepard," gasped Garrus as he dropped the bag.

"I love you, man," said Shepard into the turian's chest. "Really, I do. I hope you know that. Just platonically, though. Not that there's anything wrong with the other way, I just don't swing like that, you understand, right?"

Before Garrus could reply Shepard's eyes lit on Zaeed. "Zaeed!" he cried. He let go of Garrus and clapped the mercenary on the shoulder. The yellow-armored man staggered a bit with the impact, but smiled.

"Heya, Shepard."

"I'm really sorry about the Vido thing," said Shepard. "That whole situation was so fucked up. We'll get him, though. You an' me, we'll find him again. I'll hold him down an' you can kick him in the balls for about a week straight. That sound good?"

Chakwas joined them and gently moved Shepard away. "I think you're still a little loopy, Commander."

"Loopy? Hah. I'm fit fer duty. Oooh, Garrus, didja see this?" He pointed at The Big Wheel. "It's great! It's like a Mako, but it can _cloak_. We gotta get one!"

"We may not have space for it on the Normandy, John," said Garrus.

"But we gotta! It's sooo cool! Did I mention it has a cloak?"

"Fine, we'll get one," replied the turian. He looked over and twitched a questioning mandible at Chakwas, who shrugged. "Now, John," he continued, "We need that coverall you're wearing. I brought some of your clothes, so if you want to go around the other side of the vehicle to change-"

"Sure! No problem!" Shepard unzipped his coverall and stripped it off in less than two seconds. "Here ya go!" He handed the coverall to Garrus. The air was cool on his bare skin. He smiled at their shocked faces. "Heh. Maybe I should go into battle like this, right? I'll scare 'em with my _other_ gun." He put his hands on his hips, struck a heroic pose, and cackled. His friends looked at each other.

"C'mon, that's some funny shit," said Shepard. "You guys need to loosen up."

"Um, John, maybe you could at least put on some pants...?" said Garrus in a hopeful tone.

"Fine, ya prude." He unzipped Garrus's bag and began rummaging. "Pants, pants, pants, where are my...ah." He pulled on his pants, humming happily. "Better?"

"Much better, thank you," said Chakwas. Garrus handed him a shirt, and with a happy shrug Shepard pulled that on as well.

In the meantime, Zaeed had taken off his yellow armor. "Take good care of this stuff, okay Shepard? It's seen me through a lot."

Shepard was delighted. "Hey, do I get to wear your armor? That's cool!" He didn't realize it before, but he and Zaeed were about the same size. That was so neat.

Mordin was also rummaging through Garrus's bag. "Excellent!" he said. "Thank you for bringing them." He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a black fedora. The hat was a little taller than the human norm, in order to accommodate the salarian's horns.

Zaeed had put on Shepard's coverall and zipped it up as Rentola approached. The salarian attached a transparent collar around Zaeed's neck, then stepped back and touched a few controls on his omni-tool. The mercenary's face seemed to ripple and then snap back into focus. But now. he looked exactly like Shepard. Shepard's image smiled, and spoke in Zaeed's raspy voice. "Don't worry Shepard, I don't mind bein' this ugly for a while."

Shepard couldn't stop grinning. In a day full of cool things, _this_ was the coolest. A thought struck him, and he pointed a finger at Rentola. "I got it! You got the neat car, and the cool tech...you're _Batman!_ Ya even got the ears for it!"

The salarian tilted his head in puzzlement.

"Just roll with it," muttered Garrus. Then, in a louder voice. "You're right, John, he's Batman. And you get to ride in the Batmobile, okay?"

"Awesome! What're you guys gonna do?"

"We're gonna be a distraction," said Zaeed.

"We're going to be a _stylish_ distraction," added Garrus, and slipped on his own pair of sunglasses.

* * *

Harper hugged the side of the hallway door. He had managed to clean the gore from his face and hands, but his once-pristine gray suit was now a bloody wreck. His heart rate was just about back down to normal. Fire team Gamma surrounded him. The team consisted of ten Blue Suns that had taken up positions all around the hotel lobby. All of their guns pointed at the same door he stood next to. Their weapons consisted only of flechette guns, at Harper's insistence. The guns' ammunition was non-lethal and loaded with Haldoran.

"Perimeter Team, check in," he muttered into his comm. "Any signs, Corbin?"

"Nothing's happening out here," came the reply. "Nobody's left the building. There's no movement inside that we can see."

Cooper had, mercifully, stopped screaming. Now all was quiet. There was not a single sound from back down the hallway. Harper began to rationalize to himself. It _must_ have been a freak occurrence. Somehow, Subject Zero had managed one final expression of biotic power, and she was now back in the catatonic state he'd found her in. At least, he hoped that was the case. If she was dead, his only hope was to run far enough for The Illusive Man to never find him.

And Harper knew that _nobody_ had ever been able to run that far.

He checked his own weapon, which was a flechette pistol loaded with Haldoran-injecting ammunition. He then slipped a hand into his pocket and made sure he had a gas grenade ready as well. The grenades weren't his first choice of weapon; they carried too much risk of overdosing Subject Zero. Harper then peeked down the hall. It was all dark and quiet. He heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing. He turned back to the mercenary group.

"Gamma One and Two," he said softly. "You're on point. Shock batons only. Gamma Five and Six, you're behind them. Give suppressing fire if needed. Three and Four, you watch the team's back. I'll be right behind One and Two. The rest of you, stay here. No matter what happens, nothing gets out the main door behind you, understand? When we reach the door, I will do a check of the room first before we enter. Everybody keep in contact. Move out."

The mercs shuffled themselves into position and began moving down the hall. Harper was right among their tightly-packed group. He kept himself between Five and Six, so that they would have a clear field of fire if needed. Harper kept jerking his head around; there were too many little unexplained noises. He supposed most of them were just due to an abandoned hotel settling. It was only noticeable because it was all so damn quiet.

They reached the door to Jack's room. One and Two took up positions on either side. Gamma Two touched the door, and it gently swung open. He took a quick peek inside, then jerked his head back with a curse. Harper moved up next to the armored man's side. Two leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Shitload of blood and guts in there. Saw one bare foot behind the chair."

Harper gestured the man aside. He dropped close to the floor and edged one eye around the edge of the door. The room beyond looked like an abattoir. There were streaks of red all over the walls, and various lumps of bloody gristle scattered at random. Several smoking chunks of armor were embedded in the walls. There was a pile of offal in one of the far corners that looked like a heap of bloody ground meat. There was nothing left that was recognizably human. Whatever remained of Jackson and Cooper looked like it had been put through a blender.

And sure enough, there was one bare foot just sticking out from behind the chair. Harper supposed that Subject Zero must be curled up behind the chair's solid back. Maybe she took that position to shield herself before passing out again. He watched carefully for two minutes, hardly daring to blink. There was no movement of the foot, not a single twitch.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Harper eased his pistol around the corner. He took careful aim at the foot. This wasn't an ideal shot; it would be more certain to get her in the neck or another main artery. But he would take what he could get. He took a breath, held it, and fired. He saw the flechette strike home. There was no reaction. He took another breath and made another shot. There was another successful strike, but still there was no reaction. He nodded to himself and edged up the door jamb, then slowly walked into the room. He felt the mercs begin to move in along either side of him. "Hold your positions," he muttered to them. He took about two minutes to walk the ten feet to the chair, all the while looking at the foot to make sure there was no movement.

He reached the chair and peeked over its back.

The foot was attached to nothing but a severed leg. The leg had been ripped off just above the knee.

It was a _bare_ leg, with no tattoos.

"Oh, shit-" said Harper.

He dropped to the floor just as the pile of offal exploded. He caught one brief glimpse of Subject Zero hurtling out of it, a snarling dervish streaked with red gore and blue power. He began scrabbling for the door. There was a confusion of shouting. Harper saw one of the mercs step over him while swinging a shock baton, and then saw the same merc get flung back over him into the wall with a sickening crunch of breaking bone. He kept crawling for the door. There were the snapping noises of flechette rounds going off, there was the whine of shock batons being deployed, there were above all of it some truly horrible screams. Harper didn't dare look behind him. He reached the door and scrambled around it, then regained his feet.

There was a roar from the room behind him. "YOU WILL ALL SCREAM MY NAME, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Harper threw the gas grenade around the door jamb and ran for the lobby. He tried to ignore the crunches and screams behind him. He grabbed for his comm. "Corbin and the perimeter team, go to high alert. Gamma Team, hold fire, I'm coming through. Fire for maximum effect once I'm clear." Harper burst back through the door into the lobby and dove for the ground. He rolled as he heard the snapping of the team's flechette guns. He came up in a kneeling position, his own pistol pointed at the doorway.

He could see the green Haldroran gas pouring out of the door to Subject Zero's room, but there was no other movement. Harper took a breath. It was time to get more serious. "Right, now we deploy gas grenades-". He was interrupted by a distant crash that rattled the entire hotel. Bits of dust rained down on him and the remnants of the fire team. They all stood in shock for a moment.

"What the fuck was-" began one of the fire team. He was cut off by another and slightly louder crash. More dust coated everything. Then a rhythmic smashing began, with the sounds getting louder and louder. It sounded like the approaching footsteps of a huge and furious beast. The mercs began to shift their weight nervously. Some instinct made Harper back up to the exit door just as the wall next to the hall's doorway buckled and blew apart. Bits of wood and plaster ricocheted around the room as Subject Zero smashed through. Harper caught a glimpse behind her of the tunnel of destroyed hotel rooms that she'd created to reach the lobby.

Subject Zero was now a goddess of war made flesh. She was surrounded by a spherical blue field. Her slim and muscled form was covered with blood. Her face was a mask of red out of which stared her white-rimmed eyes. To Harper it almost looked like they were glowing.

Her teeth were bared in a rictus of joyful fury.

And when she spoke her voice was like thunder.

"WHO'S FIRST?"

Harper fired off a few flechettes as he tumbled out of the exit. The grounds surrounding the hotel were paved, and dotted with the occasional abandoned vehicle. He sprinted for the perimeter just as the lobby seemed to explode in gunfire behind him. "Perimeter Team, hold fire until I'm clear!" he gasped. He stumbled and went down hard on one shoulder. He ignored the sudden sharp pain and pushed himself back up.

Harper ran past two of the perimeter guards. "I'm clear! Fire at anything that comes out of there!" He didn't hold out much hope for the remnants of Team Gamma. There was no firing, oddly. He took cover behind a burned-out aircar and peeked over the edge at the lobby door.

The lobby windows were murky, and the room was filled with a green haze. Somebody on Team Gamma must have gotten off another gas grenade. Many of the windows were cracked from either biotic discharges or flechette rounds. Nothing appeared to move. Harper took a deep breath. As powerful as Subject Zero was, he had the numbers advantage and also better positioning. They just had to wait for the gas to take effect, and then-

Harper heard a soft thump behind him, and on pure instinct he spun and fired a full burst. He saw a blur of blue skin and red leather just before something smashed him into the aircar's side with irresistible force.

* * *

Jesperson was the merc in charge of the ground team pursuing Shepard. "Pull over, guys," he said. "We've lost 'em again." The two remaining cars jerked to a stop, and he bounced a little in his harness. He opened a channel to the air team. "Nathan, you got eyes on anything?"

Barry Nathan was his counterpart in charge of the air team. "Nothing yet," said Nathan's voice. "And none of our scouts have seen anything in this district. I think they're holed up somewhere close to the gate."

Jesperson gave a little growl of frustration. "Okay, keep an eye out. We'll see what we can do here." He clicked off the comm. "Where the hell could they hide something that big?" he said to his driver. "Do we have any maps of the area?"

The merc driving the pursuit vehicle nodded. "Yeah, have a look." He called up a map that superimposed itself on the vehicle's windscreen. "This is all homes in here," continued the driver. "If they tried hiding out anywhere in here, the owners would be calling the police. Maybe they backtracked into the warehouse district?"

"Or there's something we're not seeing," replied Jesperson. "Is there anything else that isn't shown on here? Maybe underground, like a sewer or something?"

* * *

Corbin heard a smashing noise from over where Harper had taken cover. The huge armored merc peeked out from behind a rusted van. He didn't see anything from the burned-out aircar that marked Harper's position. Maybe the Cerberus operative had just fallen over? Two of the nearby perimeter guards were edging towards Harper's position with weapons at the ready. They both suddenly brought their guns to bear on something at the aircar. They were then both promptly smacked into the ground by an expanding blue shockwave that appeared above their heads.

Corbin cursed. How the hell had Subject Zero gotten out of the hotel without anybody seeing it? He snapped a few flechette rounds in the direction of Harper's last position. A blue aura suddenly surrounded Harper's aircar. It creaked upwards slightly and then flung itself towards him. He dashed clear of the van just as the aircar impacted into it with a horrible screech.

 _Fuck_ that biotic bullshit. "Contact! South of exit!" he yelled. He let go of his rifle with one hand and fumbled for one of the gas grenades he'd been given. He flung it towards Harper's position, and a green cloud began to spread out. "Team Beta, use your grenade launchers! Pour it on!" There were multiple thumping noises, and more green vapor billowed out from the same area. There was now a sizable cloud of gas. Corbin backed up, weapon trained at the green cloud. There was a flicker of movement and he loosed a long flechette burst. There was no more movement. Maybe he'd gotten her-

The lobby door of the hotel burst open, and Subject Zero dashed out. "Blue! Over here!" she yelled, before going down on one knee. The biotic coughed, probably from the gas.

Corbin had one moment of confusion. He thought Subject Zero had already left the hotel. Then who was in the gas cloud? But wasn't about to give up the opportunity to get a shot off at the maniac that had killed a good chunk of his team. He swung his flechette rifle around to aim at Subject Zero. There was the rolling crackle of a machine pistol from back in the gas cloud, and he saw the sparks of several rounds impacting off of his shield. He cursed again and sprinted back towards his teammates.

 _Fuck_ this flechette bullshit. The opposition had actual guns now. "All team, drop your flechette weapons and assume normal loadout. There are now two targets. Put them both down." He knew Cerberus wouldn't like damage to Subject Zero, but those fuckers weren't here _now,_ were they? Just as he reached cover again, he heard the crack of gunfire. He connected to the team's sniper. "Girard, do you have eyes on them?" he snarled into his comm.

"I saw someone," came the response. "It's an asari in red armor, wearing some kind of filter mask. She's...she's really fucking fast. She grabbed Subject Zero. I think they took cover. Southwest of exit, behind the green-colored aircar."

Corbin began to feel more in control. Okay, both targets were in one position and he had the numbers to surround them. "All teams, move in. Flank each side. Be careful." He scuttled out of cover, and felt two of his own fire team on each side of him. His confidence began to come back to him. They could _do_ this.

He rounded the corner of the hotel and saw the junked green aircar in question. He saw something move behind it. A blue head popped up, and Corbin snapped off a three-round burst that made the asari duck back down. At least he could keep their heads down and keep them from aiming their fancy biotic bullshit-

There was a deep BOOM from behind him. It almost sounded like an artillery piece going off. He jerked his head around as he heard his men shouting in alarm. One of his men was down and writhing on the ground. The man's shoulder was simply gone; it was as if something had taken a large wet bite out of him. There was a huge and hunchbacked shadow in the far corner of the parking lot. The shadow was holding an equally huge gun. Smoke wafted gently from the giant gun's muzzle.

The shadow let forth a huge bellow. "I. AM. KROGAN! WHO DARES TO THREATEN MY KRANTT?"

Corbin felt his stomach clench. Fuck this _whole mess_. He had to call it in.


	25. Hang On St Christopher

Samara steadied Jack against the car door. "How are you, dear?"

She tried to ignore the quite amazing amount of blood that covered the nearly-naked young human. She suspected that very little of it was Jack's. She risked a quick look over the roof of the car and was rewarded with a burst of gunfire that made her duck back down.

"I've sure as shit felt better, Blue," replied Jack. "I tried not to breathe that gas crap, but I think I still got a little of it. How'd you find me?"

"That is long story for another time. Suffice to say Marcus raised the alarm-"

"He's _alive_?" The cold and ferocious look on Jack's face was suddenly replaced with delight. It looked incongruous, given the bloody red mask of her face.

"He is indeed. He also somehow removed Cerberus control from EDI. I'm still not quite certain how. Everyone on board now knows about Cerberus and Pragia. The _Normandy_ is...under new management."

Jack grabbed Samara's hand and squeezed it tight just as they heard Grunt make his entrance. Samara pulled out another filter mask and placed it over Jack's face. "Here you go, dear. This should help against any more gas."

"Thanks, Blue." Jack pushed herself against the car door and started to get to her feet. "Just gimme a moment, I'll give you a hand-"

Samara smiled and pushed her back down. "You've done plenty, my dear. Just rest at little while. Grunt and I have to go to work. Thane is keeping an eye on your position. Nobody is going to get near you."

* * *

Corbin was glad for his helmet's breathing filters. The gas shouldn't hurt him, but he still didn't want to be breathing that shit. "Keep up the firing!" he yelled. "Make the biotics keep their heads down!" He could hear the clatter of weapons fire around him, interspersed with an occasional deep BOOM from whatever the hell the krogan was packing.

He dashed through the green murk and desperately scanned the ground for Harper. He found the Cerberus operative plastered against the rusted side of an aircar. Harper's head lolled in a boneless manner as Corbin peeled him away from the aircar and laid him on the ground. Corbin stripped off one gauntlet and touched his fingers to Harper's neck. Miraculously, he felt a pulse. He didn't have time to worry about neck injuries or any of that shit. He began slapping the sides of Harper's face.

"Harper? Come on, shithead. Get up."

There was no response. Corbin heard loud, thudding footsteps close by followed by another bellow. He fumbled his gauntlet back on and gripped his gun. He had to get the newcomers on the back foot, and then call it in to Quentin. Corbin raised his rifle and let loose a long burst as he charged directly at the sound of the krogan. He burst out of the gas cloud right on top of the huge alien, just in time to see the last few bullets from his rifle smack into the bastard's shields. Corbin cannonballed into the krogan. He tucked his shoulder in as he collided, but it still felt like he'd run into a brick wall. Corbin was still big enough to stagger the krogan, however, and he used the opportunity to dodge around the alien and run towards his men.

"Shift fire! Hit the krogan now!" He laid down another long burst behind him as he sprinted for cover. "Do not let him link up with the asari!"

* * *

The Illusive Man finished shaving. He knew that it was an affectation. He'd been so extensively modified that he could have had his facial hair removed permanently. But he liked the ritual, the calming feeling it gave him. Given the horrible mess that Illium was turning into, he valued that calm. Of course, he shaved with an antique straight razor that cost more than most people's houses. The bathroom decor matched the razor's antiquity; it was all dark wood paneling trimmed with leather. He scraped off the last few little bits of shaving cream and rinsed the razor in a burnished copper basin, humming tunelessly to himself. He was just toweling his face dry when his comm buzzed. "Sir, flash traffic from Illium. Quentin has just had an emergency call from one of his teams."

"Report."

"Subject Zero extraction is in jeopardy. Harper is down, apparent casualty. Corbin's abduction team is engaging. Two more hostiles have appeared, apparently trying to rescue Subject Zero. Hostiles described as an asari in red armor and a krogan with, quote, the biggest fucking gun I've ever fucking seen, unquote."

"Hmm. The Justicar and Okeer's soldier. Patch Quentin through directly to me." He clicked off and walked out into the main room. The red giant star swirled in front of him, a maelstrom of nuclear fusion that he could watch without fear of injury. He had always liked the symbolism of his chosen surroundings. He could sit at the heart of chaos and yet not be affected by it.

He tapped a few commands into his console.

"Hey!" yelled Quentin's voice. "You there?"

"Of course. I understand there have been some complications."

Quentin gave a bitter laugh. "You could say that. I've got at least fifteen of my people dead, as well as three vehicles scrapped. You never said it was going to be this difficult, and this is getting too expensive for us. I know you're paying us a lot, but if this keeps up I'm pulling the plug."

"Mr. Quentin, you knew full well going into this that you might have to directly encounter the _Normandy's_ crew. And you also knew of their considerable capabilities. I can hardly be held responsible if you have not planned sufficiently for that. If you are angling for more money, please just state so up front."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Okay, fine. I need at least 50% more than the original fee if I'm going to get more people involved."

"Done. Just do not fail, Quentin. I will be in touch shortly. We may need to alter the overall goals of the mission." The Illusive Man severed contact. This whole operation was becoming expensive. He would really have to accelerate the modified Indoctrination development programs. It would be so much nicer to have internal staffing to rely on for things like this.

The Illusive Man lit a cigarette and pondered for a few more moments. If two of the _Normandy's_ crew were there to rescue Subject Zero, then it was certain that Lawson had failed. Either she had turned against Cerberus, or she had been somehow overpowered by the rest of the crew and then had betrayed the hotel's location. Either way, EDI was in danger. He had to keep up the pressure and make sure that Shepard didn't turn one of Cerberus' most powerful weapons around and point it at him.

Fortunately, Shepard was predictable. One sure way to control him was to threaten innocent lives. And Lawson had to pay for her failure as well. He touched the console again.

"Notify the team tracking the Lawson sister. Make the grab. I want Oriana in Cerberus custody within the hour." He then tapped in a few more commands. Miranda Lawson was now permanently locked out of Cerberus. She may have been able to do a little here and there before the lockout, but the damage should be minimal.

* * *

Miranda's fingers flew over the console. Jacob knew that she was fast, but this was another level he'd never seen before. Her face was blank and her lips were compressed into a thin line that indicated utter concentration. He realized he was standing a little too close to her desk, and decided to back up a little. He didn't want her to feel crowded. He looked over at the doorway to Miranda's office. Mess Sergeant Gardner was standing guard and had a pistol at the ready. He looked at them both with barely disguised contempt. Jacob couldn't really blame him. The armorer wished, not for the first time, that he'd never been tasked with apprehending Kasumi. She had a lot of friends on board.

"That makes ten accounts drained," said Miranda. "EDI, how is the list of Cerberus Reaper-tech projects coming?"

"I have the complete list, but these are only titles. I have full data on five point two percent of them, and partial data on an additional six point one percent."

"We'll have to assume we have enough funds for the moment. Let me give you a hand with that."

"Acknowledged." The AI's voice was dry and businesslike. "Warning, I am experiencing a sudden twenty-two percent loss in network access. I suspect that you are being locked out of the Cerberus network, Miranda."

"I'm locked out of what they know I have access to," she replied. "But I know a lot more of their network than they suspect. Let's keep working."

* * *

Zaeed looked at the ground as the three of them shuffled along. He was 'supported' on either side by Garrus and Mordin. It was a bit of a paradox: they were trying not to be obvious seen, but still wanted to be at least glimpsed by the pursuing mercs. Their discovery couldn't look staged. It had to look like finding 'Shepard' was a happy accident.

Garrus took a quick look around the corner of the house they were leaning on. "There's our ride," he said. "Let's move." They shuffled off to the taxi. Zaeed hated feeling this exposed. He wanted a properly big gun, not a little holdout pistol in an ankle holster. But they had to keep up appearances. At least he had left his flamethrower in the taxi.

"I think that van around the previous corner may have been one of their lookouts," murmured Garrus as they moved. "We may have been _too_ careful. I don't know if they saw us."

"Concur," said Mordin. "May have to be more overt once airborne."

They got to the taxi. It was a standard automated aircar, but it was now fully manual thanks to some quick work by Tali and Donnelly. They slung Zaeed into the back, and Mordin hopped into the shotgun seat. Garrus settled behind the wheel, and they smoothly took off.

Mordin tapped various commands into his omni-tool, then gave a satisfied hum. "Just picked up significant chatter on a standard Blue Suns frequency. Source is nearby. Probably have been successfully spotted." Garrus nodded, and began climbing higher. Zaeed strapped his safety harness on and checked over his flamethrower. He wasn't nuts enough to actually _use_ it while airborne, but it was nice to know it was there.

* * *

Detective Anaya leaned a little forward and felt the amplifier goggles on her face adjust to keep focus. "Central, Anaya here. We just found one of the pursuing aircars. They are changing vector. Current course is south-southwest. They are accelerating, they must have just gotten word of something." She motioned to the driver of the police flitter, who brought them around in a graceful turn onto the same heading as their suspects. "We are maintaining contact. Any sign of the ground vehicles?"

"Anaya, this is Central. There is one report of a couple of the suspect vehicles gathering near the storm drain grate at the intersection of Nyrath and J'Tora. No sign of the black vehicle."

"Hmm, that drain is the in the opposite direction from where these guys are heading. Shall we break off and head back?"

"Negative, Anaya, we have ground forces on their way to intercept. Maintain pursuit of suspect aircar."

"Will do, Central." Anaya leaned back and stripped off the amplifier goggles. She then checked her sidearm in an automatic movement. Whoever these motherless swine were, they had interrupted her tea break. And they would pay for that.

* * *

Barry Nathan nodded as he cut the frequency. "Change to bearing one eight nine," he said aloud. His driver grunted in reply. Nathan then opened a channel to the ground team. "Jesperson? One of the spotter teams saw three people get into a taxi. One human in a coverall, plus a turian and a salarian. It could be they're trying to sneak Shepard out on the sly."

Jesperson's voice sounded in his ear. "We think we've got 'em tracked down. They're over one of the storm drains. I'll look and see if I can positively ID Shepard."

"You do that," replied Nathan. "I'll get close to the taxi and let you know what I see on this end."

His driver pointed. "Got 'em." There was a bright orange taxi, cruising serenely through the air as if it had nothing to worry about. Nathan got his binoculars out.

"Yeah, that's the trio," he said. "The turian is driving, the salarian is riding shotgun and the human's in the back." He tried to look closer. "I can't positively ID the human. Get us closer."

* * *

Meanwhile, Jesperson had finally run that damn black nightmare to ground. His team was arrayed around the cavernous drain entrance and he could just make out the angular shape of their quarry, which was sitting on top of a huge metal grating. He squinted through his binoculars at the little figures milling around it. He was sorely tempted to just launch a couple of rockets into the drain and be done with it. But they'd been told to get Shepard alive, which precluded the use of heavy weapons for now. And in spite of Nathan's report, Shepard might still be in there somewhere.

"Anybody got eyes on Shepard?" he commed to his crew.

"Maybe,' said one of them. "I was able to get closer. There's a guy there who's as big as Shepard. Next to the front of the vehicle."

Jesperson gave the distant figure in yellow a closer look. "Nah, that's Zaeed Massani. I recognize the armor." He clicked over to Nathan. "Hey, it's me. I just got a positive ID on Massani. They've definitely linked up with the _Normandy_ crew somehow."

* * *

Nathan nodded at Jesperson's news. "I figured. You need to keep after the ground vehicle, though. Just in case this is a trick." The aircar rocked a little in some minor turbulence, and he cursed as his binoculars bounced along with it. "Dammit, keep it still..." He squinted and tried to focus. It wasn't easy, since the human in the back of the taxi had his head turned away.

"C'mon, turn around asshole. Smile for the birdie..." muttered Nathan.

Almost as if he'd heard, the human turned to look at their aircar. Nathan lowered his binoculars with a triumphant grin. "Oh yeah, that's Shepard all right. We got 'im!" The Blue Suns merc smacked his pilot on the shoulder in glee. Their aircar began to accelerate to keep pace with Shepard's vehicle as Nathan chortled. Finally, this thing was beginning to turn around. He switched on his comm.

* * *

In spite of his orders, Jesperson was close to simply saying 'screw it' and unloading everything he could at these bastards. It would have been a lot easier and very satisfying, given the carnage inflicted on his comrades. But they weren't getting paid for doing things easy, were they? He had at least enough professional pride to know that. "No place to run now, you fucks," he muttered to himself.

"Move out," he said aloud into his comm. He felt rather than saw as his team slipped out from behind their vehicles and began to converge on the storm drain. Jesperson readied his missile launcher...just in case, he told himself.

As they moved from cover, he saw that the salarians and humans had apparently gone back into the black vehicle. It was sitting by itself, with no one around it. His team got to within twenty yards of the drain when there was the crackle of many small explosions going off in quick succession. Debris flew up all around the black shape. There was a brief groan of breaking metal, and then it dropped from view down into the drain below.

Jesperson cursed. "Shit, they're in the storm drains. Let's get after them..." His comm crackled with Nathan's voice.

"Jesperson, I got a good look. Shepard's definitely in the taxi, heading south-southwest. Lock on my signal."

Jesperson took one look at the dust cloud where the shape had gone, and shook his head. He wanted very badly to chase down those bastards and give them a taste of their own medicine. But he had a job to do. "With fucking pleasure. Good riddance to those fucks," he muttered. He ran back to his own vehicle, but just as he got to his door he heard the wail of sirens. Jesperson looked around in a mild panic and saw armored police vehicles coming up both ends of the street. Jesperson yanked the door to his car open and flung himself into the seat.

"Where to?" asked his driver. Jesperson just pointed at the dust cloud that now obscured the storm drain, and the driver obligingly stomped on the accelerator. Jesperson opened a comm back to the air team.

"Nathan! No can do on the pursuit. The cops are here. We're taking the only possible exit. I'll try to stay in touch. I'll also give those salarian bastards a little something to remember us by."

* * *

"All three aircars now following," said Mordin. "Suspect they will try capture soon." He touched a few more controls on his omni-tool and then listened for a bit. "Police now heavily involved. Mercenary ground vehicles appear to be following Shepard team into the storm drains. Only remaining air pursuit should be behind us." He settled his fedora more firmly on his head and adjusted his sunglasses.

Garrus was driving casually with one hand on the wheel. Zaeed thought it might be a good idea to step on it, but didn't want to say so yet. The mercenary looked behind them again. Their three pursuers were starting to close the gap; one was directly behind and the other two were flanking. Zaeed was a little worried about air-to-air missiles, but so far it seemed that the mercs wanted Shepard alive. They'd probably try to match speed and then force their taxi down.

"What do you think, Zaeed?" asked Garrus. "Commercial or residential?"

"Um, let's do commercial. There should be more traffic to get lost in."

"I concur!" The turian sounded happy, almost as if they were planning a goddamn picnic. He swung the aircar around in a gentle arc.

* * *

"Central, this is Anaya. Three suspect aircars now in pursuit of single taxi. Taxi appears to be under manual control. They are all headed for the J'Dera commercial district. Advise we put up police flitters to act as a screening force, we need to get them all down and out of the air."

"This is Central. Maintain pursuit, we are setting up the intercept."

* * *

Zaeed peered between the front seats and saw ahead of them a mass of distant police flitters. The flitters had the blinking red and blue lights that seemed to be the galaxy-wide signal for 'stop right there, it's the law'. He glanced over at Garrus, who still drove casually with one hand. Had the sniper fallen asleep? Zaeed wished the turian would take off those damn sunglasses and that ridiculous black fedora. He wondered where the hell Garrus had gotten a hat big enough to fit his head.

Zaeed steadied himself. Garrus was a pro. Hell, they all were pros. Any minute now the turian would pull some fancy maneuver.

The police got closer.

Garrus wasn't slowing. If anything, he was going faster. But Zaeed kept his calm. Yes sir, any minute now and Garrus would swerve and start doing some really sweet driving. Of course he would.

The police kept getting closer. Zaeed could make out details on the individual police cars now. He could read the asari printing on their hoods. Garrus wasn't slowing. Mordin was watching the oncoming cars with a seriously bored expression on his face that matched Garrus's casual air.

"Um, Garrus?" Zaeed tried to sound just as casual as his two comrades.

They got closer still to the police. Now he could see the forms of the asari in the cars. They all seemed to be frantically waving the oncoming aircar off.

"Hello? Garrus?"

They were literally on top of the police. Zaeed could see the chips in the paint job on the nearest flitter.

"Oh, shit-" Zaeed ducked behind Mordin's seat just as Garrus gave a little flick of his hand. The aircar twisted ninety degrees and shot through the minuscule gap between two of the flitters. Zaeed looked up through the taxi's transparent roof and locked eyes briefly with one of the terrified asari officers as they rocketed past. Garrus gave another flick and then they were back to horizontal.

There was a hideous smashing noise behind them as one of the pursuing mercenary vehicles plowed into a flitter. Zaeed risked a quick look behind them. The police vehicle had definitely come out on top in that encounter. It was in one piece while the merc's car was a flaming wreck dropping to the ground. He figured that Nos Astra police must be able to afford pretty good shields. The other two pursuers were able to dodge through the swerving mass of flitters. They both were still in the chase.

"Jesus, man!" yelled Zaeed.

"Relax," said Garrus. "One down, two to go."

"Wrong," said Zaeed. The receding group of flitters was starting to peel off to pursue them. "Two mercs plus every goddamn police car in Nos Astra."

* * *

Anaya rubbed at her forehead. "Okay, keep them in sight. Don't get directly in the way of that taxi. Whoever's driving it is a certifiable lunatic. Try to funnel them towards the new construction to the east. There's less traffic there. Just keep in contact and keep Central updated on their location."

She turned to her pilot. "Take us up higher. I want to get a better picture of the situation."

* * *

Zaeed tried not to look at the buildings as they blurred by. He didn't want to be reminded of how fast they were going. He looked back, and saw one of the pursuers gaining on their rear right corner.

"They're coming up on our right, Garrus," he said. He had drawn his holdout pistol, but he didn't really want to think about trying to make a shot right now.

"I see it," said Garrus casually. He spun the wheel and Zaeed felt his harness strain. Their taxi made a sudden left turn into some kind of parking structure. Now Zaeed _really_ didn't want to look out the windows. Parked vehicles sped by on each side, even closer to them than the buildings had been. There was a glare of lights from behind them; the two merc cars had followed the taxi.

* * *

"Keep on them, dammit!" growled Nathan. "I've got you now, Shepard, you sonafabitch." He heard his driver whimper.

* * *

"Oh, Goddess," said Anaya. "Okay, all units surround that parking structure. Do not, repeat, _do not_ follow inside. I'll be down there shortly. Barricade all the exits. Nothing gets out of there, you understand?" Her flitter began descending. She slipped on her amplifier goggles back on and took a good look at the parking structure. It only had a few exits, which was fortunate. The structure butted up against a tall tower in the shape of a truncated cone. The tower looked to be some sort of shopping plaza. There was nothing else close by, which should make things easier for the police to maneuver around.

* * *

"Police have blocked exits," said Mordin. "Pursuers also appear quite persistent. Not many options exist for leaving present confined situation."

Zaeed thought that was a pretty fancy way of saying they were fucked. He clung to his harness for dear life as they whirred around another hairpin turn. The rear of the taxi banged off of a parked vehicle. The lights of their pursuers were close behind. It looked like whoever was driving them was just as determined as Garrus

"C'mon, it's not that bad," said Garrus. There was another turn and a bang on their other side. Zaeed heard another, sharper crack and saw a spiderweb-like crack appear in the back window. The mercs were shooting at them now.

"Not that bad?" snapped Zaeed. "You got us in here, dammit. How are you going to get us out?"

Garrus turned his head slightly and gave the mercenary a level look from behind his sunglasses. "You want out of this parking garage? Ho-kay!"

* * *

The asari shopkeeper smiled at Harry. He was so glad he'd come to Illium for vacation; it was a planet filled with nothing but beautiful blue women. "Will there be anything else, sir?" she asked.

He thought about asking for her omni-tool number. But aloud he said, "Yes, my nephew is also really into Blasto. I was wondering if you had any of his action figures-"

There was a deafening crash behind him and a blast of air that threw him forward over the counter. He landed right on top of the asari. They looked at each other in surprise, then she pushed him off and they both scrambled to their feet. There was a huge hole punched right through the wall of the store, and another right by the store's entrance. As Harry watched, a dark blue aircar screamed through the hole in the outer wall and then into the plaza. It was followed quickly by another.

* * *

Garrus blared the taxi's horn as they sped through the interior of the plaza. Pedestrians were scattering out of their way. Somehow, they hadn't hit anyone yet.

Zaeed had once been held down and shot in the head by someone he'd considered a comrade-in-arms. That was the nearest he'd ever come to death. He decided that this was going to be a very close second. He saw panicked shoppers diving for cover, and there didn't seem to be a single sheet of glass that Garrus didn't drive right through. There was another crack and yet another spiderweb in the window behind him. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..." he chanted, almost as a mantra against harm.

He risked a quick peek around Mordin's seat. There was a large ice-cream shop that spanned the entire width of the thoroughfare. He saw one small opening at its edge that couldn't possibly fit their taxi, even if it was tilted on the side. Just as he realized this, Garrus made another quick flick of the hand and they made a hard right turn. The taxi smashed through another huge glass window and then sped out into the plaza's cavernous interior space.

"Fascinating!" said Mordin. "Another excellent example of classic asari architecture!"

"Yeah," replied Garrus. "Lots of space in this mall."

"Indeed! Interesting variety of shops as well!"

* * *

Nathan's car scraped against one of the edges of the hole in the window as it followed the taxi. His driver seemed to be almost in a trance due to fear. "Sir, please, I think-" he began.

"You shut your whore mouth and drive," snarled Nathan. "We've got 'em." They rocketed out into the tower's hollow interior, close on Shepard's car. Nathan glanced behind them. The number two Blue Suns aircar hadn't quite made the turn properly, and was now firmly stuck into the side of the ice cream shop. He swiveled his eyes back to the front and bared his teeth. "Just you and me now, Shepard," he said. "Let's see what you've got."

* * *

"Elcor-specific footwear!" said Mordin, and pointed at a shop sign as it blurred by. Zaeed refused to look at it. He gripped the back of Mordin's seat and tried not to imagine what the inevitable crash would feel like. Would it hurt? Probably not as much as getting shot in the head. Maybe it was the anticipation that was getting to him. Vido's betrayal had come out of nowhere; he'd never had _time_ to get scared.

Garrus whipped the car in a turn, skimming their car's belly right next to the windows which looked out into the mall's open interior. Zaeed heard a smash behind him as the pursuing aircar didn't make the turn quite as gracefully.

Mordin pointed at another sign up ahead. "Quarian suit repair!"

Garrus shook his head. "Man, this place has got _everything_."

He dropped the taxi's nose. "All right. Time to wrap this up," he continued.

* * *

Nathan pounded on the dash. "Fucking hell, keep on them!" His driver's face was now pure white as he dropped the nose of their car to keep pointed at the taxi. Their quarry dropped like a stone, and Nathan felt his guts rise as they both went into freefall. The taxi pulled up at the last second before hitting bottom and dodged into the mouth of a tunnel at the base of the plaza.

"I'm on them, sir," said his driver in a tight voice. Nathan felt his face pull taut from the acceleration as his car made the same maneuver. He could see the taxi's lights ahead of them. The taxi's rear grew larger. In spite of all of the fancy driving, Shepard's taxi just wasn't quite as fast as their car. They were edging close to their prey's rear bumper. Any moment now...

The taxi made a precise little swerve to the side, and suddenly Nathan was staring directly at very large and very immovable support pillar. He barely had time to scream before they plowed into it at a hundred kilometers an hour.

* * *

Garrus carefully maneuvered the taxi into an alcove. They were now deep in the structure. "Right, everybody out!" he called.

Zaeed managed to pry his fingers off of Mordin's seat and got out of the car. He resisted the urge to kiss the sweet, sweet ground. The taxi was a dented and smoking wreck by this point. He wasn't sure what exactly was keeping it held together.

Both Garrus and Mordin took off their hats and glasses and tossed them all into the taxi. "All right," said Garrus. "It's about time we got our friendly neighborhood mercenary back."

Zaeed stared at him in confusion, then realized he was still wearing the Shepard hologram. "Oh, yeah, that," he said. He stripped off the collar and tossed it into the taxi. He then retrieved his flamethrower. The feel of the weapon in his hands helped get some of his nerves back.

"Care to do the honors, Zaeed?" asked Garrus. The mercenary looked blankly at him for a moment, then realized what needed to be done. He took aim at the taxi and pulled the trigger. After a liberal application of flaming napalm, the taxi was a smoldering mound of charred metal. The smell and heat helped calm him even further.

"That was fun," said Garrus. "I need to do more driving." He and Mordin strolled off, with Zaeed tottering along after.

* * *

Nathan came to and groaned as he took a breath. There was some damage to his side, but probably nothing too serious. His arm was pinned by the folded-in side of his aircar. They had flipped onto their roof after the crash. He twisted his head around and saw his driver hanging upside-down in his safety harness. The man appeared unhurt and miraculously conscious.

"Call for backup!" he yelled at the driver. "My arm's pinned, I can't reach my comm."

The driver shook himself, then nodded and touched his forearm. Instead of the usual holographic display forming, there was a sputter and a few sparks from his ruined device.

"Aw, man!" said the driver. "They broke my omni-tool!"

Nathan ground his teeth. "I'm gonna catch that sucker. If it's the last thing I ever do."

There was a crunching noise outside the car. Nathan twisted his head around and saw two booted feet standing amongst broken glass. He twisted his head further and looked up and out. The boots belonged to a very tall asari in a police uniform. Even though she was upside-down from his viewpoint, Nathan could tell she was terminally pissed off. She had a detective badge attached to her lapel as well as a very big gun pointed right at his forehead.

"Boys," she said, "You in _big_ trouble."


	26. Just The Right Bullets

Oriana had never felt at ease during her short time on Illium. Sure, it looked nice, but she kept getting glimpses of darker and more sinister things that made her nervous. Especially the examples of 'indentured servitude' that kept cropping up around them. Her father had told her that such contracts were very carefully regulated and that mistreatment of the contractees was frowned on. They could call it what they liked, but to Oriana it was still slavery.

She kept having nightmares about being shut into a small room and forced to sign a thousand-year contract.

"Hey, Oriana, wanna check that store out?" That was from Jason, a sandy-haired boy she'd met during the trip to Illium. The trip had been fun so far, in spite of the fact that it was yet another move by her family to yet another whole new colony. The colony names all blurred together after a while. The new one they were heading for was called Ferris Fields, or something like that. Oriana had once tried to gently suggest to her parents that some career changes on their part might be nice for the family, at least until she and her siblings were all grown up. But somehow they kept getting moved.

Oriana missed her friends. She knew that she would find new ones, she always did. But for now she felt vulnerable and adrift. Jason had come along at just the right time. It also helped that he was cute, if a little too pushy about getting physical. She didn't mind being with him in public, but she sure wasn't going to let him get her alone.

They were in a bustling commercial sector of Nos Astra, and Oriana was getting a little overwhelmed by just how many different aliens were around. Previously, she'd seen maybe five asari her entire life. But now they were _everywhere_ around her. Not to mention the huge plodding forms of elcor, the squat waddling volus, and the occasional suited quarian. She'd even seen a few hanar floating around. One had been stationed on a street corner and telling anyone who'd listen about 'The Enkindlers', which she supposed had something to do with their religion. Her innate curiosity had made her ask the hanar a few questions about 'The Enkindlers', which seemed to please the floating jellyfish-like alien enormously.

Jason was pointing at a nearby model shop. It was the kind of thing she liked; Oriana wasn't shy about admitting she loved spaceships. "I could like that," she said. And it was an ideal place to go. The shop was public and there were lots of people in there to keep Jason from getting too 'handsy'. Not to mention that there were lots of cool ship models to look at. What could be better? The boy grinned at her and slipped his arm inside her elbow. That was getting a little too close for comfort, but she allowed it for now. He _was_ kind of cute, after all. Maybe a little short for her, but she didn't want to be prejudiced about such things. Just as they entered the shop, some sixth sense made her turn and look behind her.

There was a human and a turian staring right at her. As soon as they saw her noticing them, they looked away and began casually strolling along the street. She turned back and told herself to not be ridiculous. Her kidnapping nightmares were just from her stupid subconscious, they weren't reality.

* * *

Rentola peered into the gloom of the tunnel as the Big Wheel roared through the storm drain. He saw the flicker of headlights behind them. "The mercenaries followed us in," he mused into the intercom. "It looks like our little misdirection failed."

"Not entirely," said Chakwas. "Their air crew is following Garrus, and the police are now in full alert. Something about a mall getting smashed up somewhere. It sounds like the Blue Suns behind us were more or less chased into the tunnels. So we have police down here as well."

Rentola saw a huge flash behind them. There was then a sudden, almost deafening bang at their right rear and the Big Wheel lurched alarmingly to the left. "They're using heavier stuff now," said Karlon from his driver's position. "I think they're pretty much ready to blow us up at this point."

Rentola stripped off his goggles. "And now we're out of sticky rounds," he said. If he was the cursing type, this would have been a good time for it. "We do have some penetrating high explosive rounds, but I'm leery of firing them down here."

Chakwas nodded. "I agree. We could bring down the roof on the Blue Suns, but there's too much risk of hurting the police as well."

Rentola heard a dry chuckle from behind him. "You STG guys have great gear, but you gotta learn how to improvise. That's the first thing they teach you when you reach N7."

The salarian commander turned and almost screamed out loud at the sight that greeted his eyes. Outwardly, he kept his face in check as he calmly asked his next question.

"Shepard? Where did you get that plastic explosive?"

The yellow-clad Spectre gave him a wink. "Relax, buddy. Really, I'm feeling a lot better." Shepard had procured a sock from somewhere and was fitting it over the lump of high explosive. Rentola could just see the metallic wink of a detonator embedded in the C4. Shepard then reached under his seat and pulled out a little can of machine grease. He began smearing the sticky grease over the encased explosive, humming all the while.

Rentola almost wanted to try to grab the bomb out of the human's hands, but something in the set of Shepard's shoulders told him that would be a Very Bad Idea. The manic expression that Shepard had previously worn was gone. It had been replaced with the laser-like focus that Rentola remembered from Virmire. He dared to hope that the Spectre of old was back and ready for business.

Shepard held up his final creation. It was an oozing, nasty-looking lump in his hand. Both of the human's hands were now also thoroughly coated with grease. "There we go. A chunk of C4, one sock, some grease and a remote detonator package. You wanted a sticky round? You got it." He set it down and now Rentola saw that there was another nasty-looking lump on the floor by Shepard's feet.

"Um, that's great," replied Rentola. "But there's no way we can fire those out of our cannon."

Shepard smiled at him. It was a small smile, but then Rentola caught just a little flicker in the human's eyes. He realized that there was a towering rage hidden behind that smile, a fury that made his own anger look like that of a petulant child. The salarian was suddenly quite glad that he wasn't the target of that fury.

"Oh you sweet summer child," said Shepard. "Who ever said anything about _firing_ them?"

* * *

Corbin's own Team Alpha was now giving the krogan a very warm reception. The big alien was behind the tangled wreckage of the smashed-up van that Corbin had originally been using for cover. For the moment, the bastard was pinned down. Corbin edged his upper torso around the corner of the hotel and tried to get a bead on the asari. He gave up after a few attempts. The bitch was just too damn fast. "Team Alpha, keep fire on the krogan. Team Beta, switch to grenades and try to aim near the asari. At least make her keep her distance." He figured he could at least occupy these bastards until his promised reinforcements arrived. He clicked his comm back to the sniper on the hotel's roof. "Girard, do you have eyes on anybody else approaching?"

"Nope. We still have the asari on one side of the lot, and the krogan on the other. Hang on, I think I just heard something behind me-"

Girard's voice abruptly cut off, and Corbin could swear that he heard a faint crunching noise over the comm. "Girard? Talk to me, dammit-"

There was a _crack_ and one of Alpha team went down. Half the man's head was gone. "Fuck!" yelled Corbin. He immediately knew where the shot had come from. "Enemy sniper on the roof! Everyone watch your six!" He could see several of Team Alpha look behind them up towards the roof. Of course, the krogan chose that moment to pop out from cover and let loose another blast from that oversized shotgun. Corbin took his own opportunity to give the krogan a nice long burst of fire. He was gratified to see the alien's shields go down and even see a little spurt of blood from high up on the alien's hump. The bastard might have redundant organs, but put enough bullets at him and he could get shot to bits just like anybody else. The krogan ducked back into cover.

"Keep fire on the two on the ground," he commed everyone. "I'll take care of our upstairs problem." He turned and began scaling the wall of the hotel. Corbin was big, but he was also quick and agile. There were a lot of people who had dismissed Corbin as just a big, lumbering oaf. A lot of dead people.

The hotel's wall had plenty of windowsills and eaves for hand- and foot-holds, so he managed to scale the wall inside of ten seconds. As he reached the top, he jumped and grabbed the edge of the roof with one hand. He hung there and fished out a flashbang grenade with one hand. He popped its pin and flung it onto the roof, trying to get it to land about where he would hide if he was a sniper. He followed that up with two more and then vaulted himself onto the roof as they went off. He dropped flat as he landed, trying to present as little of a target as possible. He crab-walked towards the front edge of the roof, where he figured was the most likely location. It wasn't easy going; there were a few air conditioning units and ventilation stacks that blocked his path and his sight-lines.

He approached the front of the roof. Sure enough, Corbin caught a flash of movement just as he saw his own sniper's prone body. Girard was definitely dead; his head was twisted around much too far on his neck. Corbin pushed himself up against a ventilation stack and then up onto his feet as he slung his rifle off of his back. He loosed a burst around the corner of the stack with one hand, and then spun around the corner and brought his rifle up to his shoulder. He ran forward to keep inside the effective range of the sniper's weapon.

He saw a green blur and then a blue-tinged punch that smacked his rifle aside, followed a precise kick that knocked his weapon a good twenty feet away. Corbin acted on pure instinct and instead of hitting back he leapt at his attacker and grappled him in a bear hug. He felt rather than saw his opponent's weapon also go spinning off. They both went down onto the roof in a tangle of limbs. Corbin felt random bits of gravel scrape against his armor as he stared into a pair of black, expressionless eyes. He drove his forehead forward and felt a satisfying _thud_ as his armored skull met unarmored flesh and bone. There was a forceful kick from his opponent that threw him clear.

Corbin rolled and smoothly got to his feet. For the first time he got a really good look at the sniper. It was a drell, who was only wearing some sort of leather trenchcoat. The alien had both of his hands over his face, and red blood trickled out from between his fingers. Corbin almost ran to get his rifle, but then the drell dropped his hands. The sniper's face was a mask of blood, and his eyes were shut tight against the blood. The mercenary figured he had a chance to put this bastard down right now.

Corbin didn't waste time taunting his foe, that was a rookie move. He silently drew a knife and stabbed towards the blinded assassin. It was a smooth, fast, and utterly deadly attack. The blade's point approached the drell's stomach-

-the drell swayed to the side, almost as if by accident. Corbin's knife missed completely. The force of his stabbing attack took him a little past the drell, but he recovered with alacrity and slashed the knife in an arc back at his opponent. He kept the blade low, trying to gut the bastard. The drell seemed to react in slow motion, and swayed backwards with a graceful arch to his back. Corbin felt a brief moment of triumph. He was as fast as the sniper, and the bastard couldn't see. This was going to be easy-

Somehow his knife blade...missed again. Corbin could swear his knife tip barely caught the edge of the drell's coat. The sniper had somehow dodged _just_ enough. He staggered a little from the unexpected lack of resistance and saw green hands grab at his knife arm. Before he could react, there was a crack and an explosion of pain from his right wrist. He heard rather than saw his knife drop to the roof. Corbin roared in rage and swung his other gauntleted fist down at the drell's head in a hammer-like blow. The alien flowed like vapor around the attack, and Corbin felt himself suddenly launched in a graceful arc through the air that ended with a weighty crash into the roof. There was a sheet of agonizing pain from his left side. The drell had used the throw to dislocate his shoulder.

Corbin finally panicked. He tried to roll onto his back. If he could draw a bead on the bastard, he might be able to land a kick. Before he could complete the roll, he felt something grab his helmet. The last thing Corbin felt was an irresistible twist and a crunch from his neck.

* * *

Jack heard gunfire interspersed with the occasional _whump_ of Samara's shockwave. There was also a lot of panicked yelling. She held out a hand and tried to summon an aura; the resulting biotic display flickered more than she'd like. Sure enough, she must have gotten a couple of lungfuls of that damn gas. There was a sudden silence, and Jack decided to risk taking a look.

Mercenary bodies were strewn everywhere around the hotel. Samara and Grunt were talking together at the far end of the parking lot. Grunt then jogged over to the hotel and simply smashed his way through the wall. She wanted to yell and tell them not to bother checking, but decided to let them have their fun.

She sat back down and leaned against the car. Now that her adrenaline was draining away, she was beginning to really feel the pain from her injuries. Her foot in particular seemed to be on fire. Jack closed her eyes and rested her head against the car. She heard a quick step beside her, and opened them again to see Samara.

"How are you holding up?" The justicar was breathing easily. Her only sign of expended effort was a little sheen of sweat on her brow. Jack saw that she'd even managed to keep any blood off of her armor.

"I'm doing better." Jack stood up, and felt another spasm of pain from her broken foot. "Though I think I'm still a little messed up from that gas. Hey, I was able to do that thing. You know, increasing my whaddyacall, metabolism. I don't ever want to try that again, though. It just about cooked me."

* * *

Harper took a breath as he came to, and immediately regretted it. He coughed weakly. His vision was blurred, and there was the stink of gunfire everywhere. He couldn't see much around him other than green vapor. His injured shoulder still throbbed, and his ribs felt like a rhino had done a tap-dance on his chest. Harper blinked, and his vision cleared a little. He could hear voices talking a little ways away. He thought that Subject Zero was one of them, but he wasn't sure.

Just in case, he had to keep as quiet as possible. He slowly rolled onto his chest and tried to push himself up. There was glass and debris strewn all over the pavement as far as he could see. But a flash of metal caught his attention. He stared in amazed hope at his gun, which was only a little ways away from him. Harper began crawling towards the weapon.

* * *

Jack saw another shape emerge from the darkness. The shape moved so silently that, even looking right at it, Jack somehow couldn't believe it was there. The shape resolved into Thane. The drell was cleaning blood from his forehead with an antiseptic wipe. "Greetings, Jack," he said, and actually smiled at her.

"Heya, lizard guy. Are you okay?"

Thane shrugged. "I am a little slowed from my condition. Nothing I could not cope with."

"Thanks for coming to save my ass. I heard there's been big doings back at the ship."

"Yes," replied Thane. "Much has changed. But our mission has not." He turned to Samara. "Garrus's distraction was partially successful. Shepard's team is on the way back, with only ground pursuit remaining. Garrus and his team are almost here."

"We should be ready to move fast," replied Samara. "I'm sure our enemies will be sending reinforcements."

Thane nodded. "Garrus sent us coordinates to rendezvous with them. We'll then head for the _Normandy_."

The hotel door opened and Grunt emerged. He lumbered over to their group. "There is no one left inside. Jack was...very thorough." The krogan turned and regarded her. Jack nodded at him and smiled. She saw he had a minor cut up on his hump, but otherwise the huge alien didn't seem to have a scratch on him.

"Heya, Grunt. It's good to see you too." Jack patted the krogan on one meaty shoulder.

She was suddenly taken aback when the krogan knelt and bowed his head to her.

"I saw what you did," said Grunt. "Shepard is my Battlemaster, and I shall follow him to the best of my ability. But if Shepard should fall in battle and I somehow survive, would you accept me as your pupil? I would be honored to follow a warrior such as yourself."

Jack wasn't sure what the hell to say to something like that. She looked at Samara with a questioning eye. Samara nodded, as if to say _go with it_.

"Sure thing, Grunt," Jack said. "But let's not talk about Shepard dying, okay? Somehow I don't think that dude is very easy to kill."

"Agreed," said Grunt. He stood and gave her a searching, direct look. "You are strong. It is an honor to have you in my krantt."

Samara stepped forward, close to Jack. "We should-"

There was a harsh cracking noise. Several ugly-looking metal darts appeared high on the side of the justicar's neck, just above her choker. She made a shocked grunting noise, and fell to her knees.

Thane spun like flowing smoke and cracked off a shot. Jack whirled as well. It was Harper, the bastard in the gray suit. At Thane's shot, Harper grunted and dropped his pistol. He now had a very neat hole through his gun-hand's shoulder. Thane's finger tightened on his trigger, getting ready to fire again.

"No!" snapped Jack. Thane dropped his pistol slightly. Jack strode forward. She relished the terrified look in the man's eyes. "I made you a promise, buddy," she snarled. "So say it. Say my name."

Harper gave her a defiant look. "Su...Subjec..."

Jack gave him a casual backhand that drove him to his knees. It should have thrown him ten feet, but in her defense she _was_ still recovering. "Say my name," she repeated. She kicked him over on his stomach.

The gray man tried to roll himself onto his back, apparently trying to and get up. "Subject-"

Jack lined herself up, swung one leg back, and kicked his balls like she was trying to drive them into orbit. Harper's breath simply seized in his throat. Jack dropped to one knee next to him and drew back one fist.

"Last chance," she said. "Say my name, and I finish you quick."

The gray man got his breath back. "JACK!" he screamed.

"You're goddamn right," said Jack. Her joyful anger flared in her stomach, an anger that was then made manifest by a steady blue light around her fist.

She then drove that fist forward and punched straight through his skull.

Jack stood and shook the brains off of her hand. It was interesting how blood made everything so sticky. "Rest in hell, motherfucker," she muttered. Unfortunately, her satisfaction was short lived. There was the whine of several aircars followed by the crack of gunfire. The Blue Suns reinforcements had arrived.

And when Jack looked over, she saw that Samara was still down on her knees and looking very pale.

* * *

Jesperson slipped another rocket into his launcher. "Okay, everyone hold constant speed and bearing until I get this missile off."

"Understood," said his driver.

"Got it," commed the vehicle behind him. Jesperson opened his window. The interior of the car was suddenly filled with the roar of engines echoing off of the concrete walls of the tunnel. He threaded the launcher out of the opening and then leaned out himself. He held the weapon up to his eye and was glad to see that its IR scope showed his quarry clear as day. They had gotten much closer, and there wasn't any way he could miss at this range.

"Hold still, you fucks..." he whispered. He fired, and there was a bright flash that reflected off of the blurred tunnel walls. The rocket roared towards its prey.

He stared in disbelief as the black vehicle slipped to the side, then kept going up and around. It hugged the round roof of the tunnel like a spider. His rocket went right through the space where the black vehicle had been. After the rocket had passed, the vehicle continued its circuit around the tunnel and then settled back down. It continued racing down the tunnel as if nothing had happened.

"FUCK!" he yelled, and slid back into his seat. He began fumbling for another rocket. "We need to get closer!" he yelled into the general comm. There was a brief light from ahead that caught his attention, but by the time he looked up the light was gone. It was almost as if someone on the vehicle ahead had opened a hatch and then closed it again. He could swear he saw somebody on top of the salarian vehicle. "Hey, does anybody see anything on top of-"

There was a loud _bang_ as a figure in yellow armor leaped onto his hood. Jesperson had time to look up into a pair of furious blue eyes before he heard another, smaller thump. The yellow figure scuttled up the windshield, and Jesperson's car rocked as his attacker jumped off towards the Blue Suns vehicle behind him. he looked down in confusion. There was a brown, oozing lump stuck to the hood of his car. "What the hell was-"

There was a roar behind him, and the tunnel was filled with light and noise. Jesperson twisted his head around in a panic. The other pursuit vehicle was a twisted, flaming wreck bouncing along through the small amount of standing water on the floor of the drain. He suddenly realized what the lump on his hood was. Jesperson didn't waste time in shouting a warning. He just threw open his door and tried to jump out, heedless of the danger posed by their speed. He managed to get almost all the way out of the car before their own sticky-bomb exploded.

* * *

There wasn't anybody suspicious-looking when they came out of the model shop. Jason was still insisting on holding her arm, and Oriana was about to tell him to drop it. Cute or not, he was getting kind of clingy.

"What should we do next?" asked Jason.

Oriana thought through the question. They had an hour or so before they had to meet up with their families. She was still pondering when she heard a gentle voice.

"Oriana Brewster?"

She turned. The speaker was an asari in some sort of white armor. She had a friendly smile on her face, and her hands were spread out as if to show she wasn't armed.

"Um, yes?" Oriana almost immediately regretted admitting her name.

The asari sighed with relief. "Thank the Goddess I found you. I'm Captain Enyala. My group is in charge of security for the section of the docks which includes your ship. I'm afraid there's been a bit of an accident involving your father. It's nothing serious, he's fine, but we were sent to get you." There were suddenly multiple white-armored figures that surrounded the two of them. There were two more asari, a turian, and a salarian.

Oriana unwound her arm from Jason's. "What happened? Can I comm him?"

"Not right now, he's in with a doctor. I don't know the details yet, apparently his foot was broken somehow. As I said, it's nothing serious. Your family's with him. We'd like to take you directly to the hospital."

"Um, I don't know-" Oriana thought that something smelled about this situation.

"Oh, don't worry about your friend. We'll make sure he gets back safe." Enyala nodded to the turian, who moved forward and took Jason's arm. Oriana had time to exchange one puzzled look with him before the turian moved the boy away with quiet efficiency. One of the asari followed the retreating pair.

* * *

Garrus brought their newly-commandeered cargo van to a halt. The hotel should be in the next parking lot over, and it was separated from them by a little grassy ridge. He turned to his compatriots. "It sounds like the mercs at the hotel called in backup. Zaeed, are you okay without armor?"

The mercenary snorted and gave a twisted smile. He hefted his flamethrower. "I'll manage. What's the plan?"

Garrus pointed towards the hotel. "The location is there. The Blue Suns should be on the far side of the lot from Jack and the others. I'll get overview and vector you two in. Thane reports that Jack is banged up but mobile. Samara's apparently been injured. Mordin, I'll clear a path for you to them. Zaeed, your job is to flank the mercs and get them to to panic."

Zaeed nodded. "Thanks, Garrus. It's about time I got to give instead of receive."

* * *

Rentola slid open the side door of the Big Wheel and looked back. The tunnel behind them was filled with smoke and flaming wreckage, and beyond that he could just make out some flashing blue and red lights. Then another movement caught his eye as Shepard came loping through the piles of the twisted metal. He was dragging one of the mercenaries behind him. The man was definitely unconscious from the boneless way he flopped around, and his armor was dented and charred. The foot that Shepard held appeared to be twisted in the wrong direction. Shepard reached the Big Wheel, and got ahold of the merc's neck. He casually slung the armored load into the vehicle, then grabbed the edge of the door and pulled himself back in. "We're all done here," he said calmly. "Let's move. Anybody got a towel?"

One of the STG tossed Shepard a cloth, and the Spectre began calmly cleaning his hands off as the Big Wheel sped away. He rocked slightly with the acceleration, but otherwise gave no notice.

"Who's our new friend?" asked Rentola.

Shepard knelt by the motionless mercenary and stripped off the man's gauntlet. "He managed to get clear of the blast. And he has something I need." Shepard stripped the omni-tool off of the man's forearm, then looked towards the front of the Big Wheel. "Hey, doc? Do you mind if I take shotgun for a bit? I have a couple of calls to make."

Chakwas nodded and unbuckled herself. "What about the mercenary? I'll see what I can do for him, if that's all right with you."

Shepard shrugged. "Go right ahead. For now all I need is his omni-tool. If he lives, I'll interview him as well."

* * *

Enyala and the asari now flanked Oriana as their group walked through the crowded streets. The salarian walked behind them as if to watch their backs. Oriana had a nasty suspicion that the latter was really there to keep her from running in that direction. She kept thinking through her options. If she raised a ruckus, she was sure that Enyala would hit her with a taser and claim that ' _the poor dear fainted. She is worried about her father, after all'_. Oriana could try to surreptitiously comm somebody, but the problem with omni-tools was that they weren't subtle at all. And that would lead to the taser again.

No, she would keep her eyes open and try to make a break for it as soon as possible. They moved into a larger, more crowded space. Several people even pushed into the middle of their group, including a purple-suited quarian who bumped into Oriana.

"Sorry," muttered the quarian, and moved on. Oriana was struck with a sudden thought. She hated to stereotype an entire race, but there were so many stories about quarian thieves. She shoved her hands in her pants pockets, and was relieved to find her credit chit still there.

"Everything all in order?" asked Enyala cheerfully.

Oriana nodded. Wait a minute...not only was her chit still present, there was also something new in her pocket. It felt like a small slip of paper.

* * *

"Hey," said Jason. "Maybe I should call my folks and let them know about Oriana?"

The turian shook his head. "Nah, we'll be back at the docks in five minutes. No need to get everyone worried over nothing."

Jason realized that he'd somehow been steered into a side corridor with nobody around. This really didn't look good. Maybe he should have raised a fuss back when he was with Oriana. That had been a public place, after all. He glanced around. The armored asari was still on his other side. She didn't look pleasant anymore. Now she looked at him like he was nothing more than a pathetic annoyance.

Jason decided to press the issue. "I just want to let them know that-"

There was a grunt from behind him, and he turned just in time to see the asari go down. The alien twitched as if she'd been hit with a taser.

The turian spun and shoved Jason into the wall, hard. The impact with the wall drove the air from Jason's lungs, and he sank down onto his knees.

The turian spun again. There was nothing in view. The corridor was brightly lit, and there was nowhere to hide. The turian suddenly jerked as if he'd taken a blow to his side. He lunged, apparently trying to grapple with an invisible attacker. But his claws closed on nothing. The turian jerked again with another invisible blow, then his head snapped up as if he'd been struck right under the jaw. He slumped against the wall, and then another unseen punch drove his head around. The turian was now down and unmoving.

It had taken all of four seconds.

Jason pushed himself up, using the wall for leverage. He stared around in confusion, then flinched in fear as a hooded form suddenly appeared in front of him. Jason was not tall, but this apparition still only came up to his chin.

"Move, you idiot," snapped the newcomer. "Head for the docks. Do not use public ways. Do not use comms. They're monitoring. Do you understand?"

Jason nodded. The hooded form vanished like smoke, and then Jason felt a final invisible shove that sent him running for his life.


	27. Dirt In The Ground

Jack saw one of the Blue Suns try to make a rush towards their position, only to get his head removed by a shot from some unknown position. She figured the bird-man in blue must have got here. Thane then took another casual shot around the side of the car with his own weapon. The drell was five for five so far.

Jack had moved Samara into a sitting position, and had her back up against the side of the car. "Blue? Stay with me, Blue, dammit." The Justicar really didn't look good. There was a thin trickle of purple blood from the wound in her neck. Jack really didn't have any clothing to help stop the bleeding. Her panties were completely soaked in blood by this point. Her bigger worry was Samara's color. The asari's skin was looking almost white, and her eyes were unfocused.

On the other side of the car, Grunt was also snapping off individual shots with a pistol. For once he wasn't using his OMFG, probably because he wanted better accuracy. The krogan glanced behind them. "The salarian doctor is on his way. I will provide covering fire." He holstered the pistol and then slung the OMFG off his shoulder. He swung out of cover and let loose two huge booming shots that echoed around the parking lot.

Jack heard someone running up from behind, and then Mordin slid in feet first next to her with his bag in hand. "Greetings. Apologies for delay. What is your condition?"

"I'll live, doc. You help Samara."

The salarian moved over to the justicar. "Samara? How are you feeling?"

"My heart feels..weak," murmured Samara.

Mordin examined her neck wound with quick, nimble fingers. Jack held up the darts she'd taken out of Samara's neck. "This is what she was shot with. It doesn't make sense, it wasn't that bad of a hit."

Mordin carefully plucked the darts from her hand and sniffed them. "Certainly drugged. Meant to incapacitate, probably biotic supressant. Had they dosed you with something when you were brought here?"

Jack was relieved for a moment. Maybe it was just a bunch of knockout drugs affecting Samara. But then why did she look so pale? "Yeah, the Cerberus asshole said they had me on some kinda biotic suppressant. It started with an 'H'. Halfor? No, Haldoran."

Mordin blinked. "Not good. Haldoran safe for humans, but causes massive allergic reaction in asari. No real antidote. Causes severe autonomic response of circulatory system. Vessels begin to dilate spasmodically." He was digging through this bag as he spoke, and removed a vial and a hypo. "This will only partially counteract symptoms. Need proper medical care soon." He injected the hypo into Samara's arm, then applied a bandage to her neck.

"Okay, so let's move our asses," said Jack. "I'm not having her die for me."

There was a distant _whump_ and a bright flare of orange light that filled the parking lot. Jack heard screaming, and looked up. Several flaming figures ran in panic around the parking lot. Zaeed must had gotten to use his flamethrower, which she knew would make the mercenary happy. Thane and Grunt began casually picking off the frantic and on-fire mercs. Jack turned away from the carnage to focus back on Samara. The salarian had finished his injection. At least it looked like the asari's eyes were focusing again.

Mordin activated his comm. "Samara's condition serious, need to evacuate ASAP."

"Got it," said Garrus's voice. "All units, fall back to extraction point."

* * *

Oriana clutched the little slip of paper in her hand. She wanted to read it, but knew that she didn't dare. She was sure that Enyala was watching her closely. They were now out of the more crowded areas and approaching a side corridor. Oriana was pretty sure that when they were safely out of sight of everyone she would be getting a taser in the neck. She kept looking around, but there wasn't anything she could use as a distraction. So she was just going to have to leg it. Maybe if she started running forward, in the same direction they were going, it would confuse them long enough for her to get a good head start. It was a crummy plan, but it was all she had right now...

There was a cheerful little chiming ' _beep_ ' from next to the group. The glowing sphere of a drone appeared next to Enyala and discharged an electrical blast right into the asari's side.

Oriana's reflexes had always been first-rate. Some of her classmates had once gotten into a 'snatch-the-pebble-from-my-hand' contest after watching some old vid about a Chinese monk. She had always been able to get the pebble from them, and they had never once gotten the pebble from her. She didn't know why she was so fast; it was just always the way she had been.

And so, the instant that Enyala jerked with surprise at the shock from the drone Oriana was already in motion. She felt a brief gust of air at the back of her head, probably from the other asari trying to make a grab for her. But it the grab missed, and she was already pelting away from them. There were shouts and more electrical zapping noises behind her. She thought she heard pounding feet behind her. There was a corridor coming up fast, and so she feinted as if she was heading down that way then kept running straight. It must have been a good feint; she heard a thud and a curse behind her. At the next turn, she did actually take it and ran like a girl chased by all the forces of hell.

* * *

Harlon Quentin hated paperwork. As he sat at his desk he wished, just a little bit, that he had a proper AI to take care of a lot of the minutiae that came with running a large chapter of the Blue Suns. But VIs were all that was allowed, and you just couldn't leave them to their own devices. Otherwise, you ran the risk of coming back and finding that they'd somehow ordered fifty thousand left boots for a chapter that only had five hundred members.

Not to mention his paperwork was far from normal at the moment. Right now, he was trying to deal with several messages from the Nos Astra police. They had several of his men in custody and were oh-so-politely asking him what the everlasting _fuck_ his crew was was up to. Not for the first time, Quentin was glad that Illium wasn't quite as law-abiding as it appeared on the surface. In any of the Council worlds he would already be wearing handcuffs and trying to explain himself from inside a holding cell.

He had also heard that the reinforcements he'd sent to the hotel had run into serious opposition. The sheer number of casualties he was looking at was getting ridiculous. So he was somewhat glad for the distraction when his omni-tool chimed with an incoming call. He checked the caller's ID and then opened a link.

"Jesperson!" he barked. "Where the hell are you? What's your status?"

There was no response.

"Damn it! Answer me! Did you activate this by accident-"

He was interrupted by a calm voice. "Who is this?"

The voice was somehow familiar. Quentin racked his brain to place it. Somehow he kept thinking of the Citadel. "Who the fuck are _you_?" he snarled back. "What have you done with my man?"

"He's indisposed," said the voice. "But if he's your man, then you admit he was acting on your orders."

"Listen, you fu-" began Quentin, then stopped. He realized where he'd heard that voice before. He remembered a recent trip that he had taken to the Citadel, and the voice advertisements that seemed to be everywhere within the station.

 _I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel._

"Shepard?" he asked while wincing, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir," said the voice with a dry chuckle. That little laugh was somehow worse than a furious scream. "I will only tell you once," the all-too-familiar voice continued. "Call your men off. Call them all off, and stay out of my way. I'm willing to let it all go at this point. But if you push this, then I will be showing up on your doorstep to discuss the matter more fully. And I will be there faster than you can believe."

The comm clicked off.

Quentin leaned back in his chair and felt a little trickle of sweat come down one side of his brow. The Illusive Man had told him that failure was not an option. But now the supposedly out-of-commission Shepard was very much back _in_ commission and also very pissed off. This was the textbook definition of 'between a rock and a hard place'. He thought for a little bit more, but the churning in his guts didn't subside. He selected a number on his omni-tool and called it.

"Yeah, it's me. Get Mr. Man on the line. Shepard's awake and operational."

* * *

"She's stopped talking," said Jack. "How is she? What can I do?"

"Pulse dropping. Suspect her blood pressure getting dangerously low. Please keep talking to her. Need to keep her present and with us."

Jack dragged one hand across her eyes and was surprised to feel tears. Dammit, she'd just found out that Marcus was alive. She wasn't about to lose Samara. Especially not while rescuing herself. Their cargo van rocked gently. For some reason, Zaeed had insisted on driving. Garrus and Thane were in the rear of the vehicle, taking the occasional shot out of the open rear doors. Their pursuit had gradually tapered off, mostly because the two snipers never seemed to miss.

Jack looked down at Samara. She was stretched out on the van's floor. Her eyes seemed to stare up and through the van's roof. Jack grabbed her hand, and the asari's eyes turned to regard her. There was fear in those eyes, Jack could see it.

"Blue? Hold my hand, you feel that? Good. Just keep looking at me, okay?"

* * *

"I see, Mr. Quentin. Thank you for the update." The Illusive Man rubbed one eyebrow. "I am changing your mission parameters. I need you to surround the _Normandy_ and prevent any of the ground team from reaching it. And I will also need you to gain access to the ship and pacify any resistance inside. We will then send operatives to take over control of the ship."

There was a pause on the line before Quentin replied. "You want me to storm a goddamn frigate? I'm gonna need to plan this out. It could take a little time."

The Illusive Man noted that the mercenary captain didn't ask for more money. Either this was getting personal, or the man simply knew not to press his luck. "The ship is not operational," he said to Quentin. "The drive core is shut down, and the airlocks are sealed. You'll have to cut your way into the hull."

"That will make it a lot easier," replied Quentin. "Okay, we're on it. I'll let you know how things go."

* * *

Oriana panted and leaned against the wall. She had ducked into a side tunnel, and was listening fearfully for any sounds of pursuit. She didn't hear anything for the moment. She unfolded the little slip of paper and read it.

RUN. NO COMMS. HEAD BACK TO MODEL SHOP. LOOK FOR REDHEAD.

She wasn't one for cursing, but Oriana almost did in this case. She had to go _back_? She couldn't call anyone? It seemed ridiculous. Oriana thought about calling up her omni-tool in spite of the warning, but then reconsidered. This seemed to be a professional kidnapping attempt, and thus they might be able to track her through her comms. So far, whoever had given her the note and deployed the combat drone seemed to have her welfare in mind.

Her mind flickered through the various twists and turns she'd taken to get here. She began to build up a complete mental map of her route from the model shop to here. It was an easy and automatic process for her. Oriana had no way of knowing it, but this type of ability would have been considered extraordinary even for a highly-trained N7 commando. Once she had the mental image firmly set, she rotated the map in her head to see if there were any side paths or shortcuts. After a moment, she nodded to herself in satisfaction. There should be several access passages that would allow her to get back much more quickly and discreetly.

She then looked over her outfit. It was nothing remarkable, just a white blouse and black trousers. After a bit of thought, she slipped off the blouse and ripped the sleeves off. She tied one of the sleeves around her temples as if it was a headband, then put the now-sleeveless blouse back on. She tied the bottom of the blouse up, exposing her midriff. Then she rolled her trousers up so that her calves were bare. All of these were little changes, but hopefully it would be enough to confuse immediate detection. Although she probably looked like some kind of ridiculous wannabe pirate right now.

Oriana peeked around the corner. There was nobody in sight. She slipped out of the tunnel and began to make her way back. Having a goal helped calm her, although she could still feel her heart bouncing in her chest. She didn't run, against every instinct in her gut. She knew that a running girl would attract attention.

* * *

Garrus felt the van bounce as Zaeed slung it into a turn. "We're almost there!" yelled the mercenary. "How's our fan club?"

"None in sight," he replied. "It looks like we made them keep their distance." He opened his comm back to the ship. "EDI, do you copy?"

"Of course," replied the AI. "Shall I open the hangar ramp for you?"

Garrus looked behind him, into the center of the van. Samara was spreadeagled and looking much too still. Jack and Mordin were working on her while Grunt stood over them. The krogan was wringing his hands together in a manner that reminded Garrus of Tali when she was nervous.

"Yeah. Can you tell somebody to prep the medbay? We're going to need it ASAP."

* * *

Kelly was in the mess nursing a cup of coffee and wishing she had something stronger. Her guts churned with worry. Nobody was back yet. Shepard's group was still on the way back, and at least so far they had managed to shake their pursuers. There had been sporadic reports from Team Jack; they had successfully rescued the young biotic, but there had been other casualties. Kelly hadn't been able to find out exactly what that meant. Hopefully nobody was seriously wounded. Team Oriana had to improvise a rescue, since it looked like Cerberus had moved faster than they'd expected. It was all too much to worry about, and she couldn't wait for the whole mess to be over.

"Ms. Chambers?" said EDI. "The rescue team for Jack is just arriving. We will need the medbay prepared. Can you please assist?"

Kelly nodded. "Of course." She threw the cup into the recycler and jogged towards the medbay door. Once inside, she wheeled the main operating table into the center of the space and locked it down. Then she started pulling supplies out of cabinets. She wasn't sure if this was going to be a major surgery or something less drastic, but figured to go for broke. Fortunately, Chakwas had kept the medbay arranged according to standard Alliance protocols. Kelly was able to find everything without too much trouble. She began laying out scalpels and extractors on a mobile cart. She figured bullet wounds were the most likely injury, but she wanted to double-check that assumption. "EDI, can you tell me what injuries they-"

She was interrupted by the hiss of the medbay door. There was a confused gaggle of people suddenly swarming into the medbay. Mordin led the way, followed by Grunt. The krogan carried...

Oh, no.

He carried Samara. The Justicar flopped like a ragdoll in Grunt's arms. Jack followed close behind. The biotic was almost naked, limping, and absolutely covered with dried blood. She looked almost like she was made out of red clay. Zaeed, Garrus, and Thane brought up the rear.

"On the table, please," said Mordin. His normally cheerful face was set in worry and concentration. Grunt gently laid Samara down, and Mordin began re-checking the asari's vitals. Kelly tried to wriggle her way over to Jack, but the medbay was very crowded right now. There was much talking back and forth, while Kelly tried to get a word in edgewise to find out what had happened.

Mordin looked up. "Need everybody out." His voice was soft, but somehow cut through all of the confused talking. Grunt ducked his massive head and trundled out the door. The others started to move as well. The salarian pointed at Jack. "Stay Jack, you're hurt. Kelly, help Jack. Get her cleaned up and tended to as best you can. Will try to have a look at her in a bit. Also may need your help with Samara."

In a few moments, the medbay was much less crowded. Kelly walked carefully up to Jack and touched her shoulder. The biotic was staring at Samara's prone form, almost as if in a trance. At Kelly's touch, she snapped her eyes around to stare at her.

"Jack? Come on over here. Let me try to get you cleaned up, okay?"

Jack just nodded. Kelly steered her over to a nearby stool and grabbed a box of antiseptic wipes. She suspected that one box wouldn't be enough, but at least she could try to get Jack's face clean. Kelly began to wipe the blood off of her face. Jack was back to staring at Samara. The salarian doctor now had the front of the justicar's armor open and several monitoring electrodes applied to her chest. Mordin had also started an IV drip, and was hastily putting together several medications for injection.

Kelly gently wiped the first layer of blood off of Jack's head. Jack was pretty badly banged up. She had a clearly broken nose and two nasty pressure cuts on either side of her face. Fortunately, the cuts looked like they had stopped bleeding. Kelly tried to clean off the areas around Jack's injuries, trying hard not to start them bleeding again.

"This is the second time today I've had to clean blood off of someone," she said to Jack. "First Marcus, and now you."

The name seemed to snap Jack out of her trance. The biotic looked back at her. "Where is he?"

"He's off rescuing Miranda's sister. She's been targeted for kidnapping by Cerberus. Apparently they were using her to keep Miranda in line."

"So She-Bitch had a sister? Huh."

"Well, apparently she's more like a younger clone of Miranda." Miranda had tried to explain the exact details to the crew, but it was a little confusing to Kelly.

"Oh. That doofus had better not get himself killed. I'll never forgive him." Jack blinked a few times, then suddenly gave Kelly a much harsher look. "What happened at Hotel T'Loria, exactly? I remember the room, and the bottle. I also remember drinking from it before it all went weird."

Kelly dropped her eyes. "I'd ordered a bottle sent up to your room. Cerberus got to it and drugged it."

"Says you." Jack's eyes were now getting very dangerous.

Kelly swallowed hard and looked over at the exam table. "Samara...she vouched for me. She did the mind thing, you know?" Kelly tapped her own temple.

Jack's expression softened. "Oh. Shit. Don't worry, Blue's been around for nine hundred years. She's not going to let something like a stupid allergic reaction take her down."

Just then Samara's heart monitor began to wail. Previously, the monitor's display had shown an erratic pulse, but now it all it showed was a flat line.

* * *

Oriana tried to look casual. The model shop was in front of her, and there were no signs of anyone in white armor. She almost went inside, but then realized she didn't want to be in a confined area. She decided to act like she was window-shopping instead, and tried to use the reflection in the store window to keep an eye on the crowds behind her. There weren't any redheads that she could see. Oriana dropped her eyes down to a particular model. It was of the Destiny Ascension, the flagship of the Citadel fleet. Right now she really wished she had the dreadnought's main gun here.

A movement in the window's reflection caught her eye. It was someone in white armor, walking along the far side of the plaza. She didn't move or turn to look, not right away. Oriana tried to look casual as she turned and looked off to her left. She used her peripheral vision to check out the possible threat. Her heart sank as she recognized the salarian from Enyala's group. He was moving slowly through the crowd, carefully sweeping his eyes over everything. Oriana didn't flinch, and didn't look away suddenly. She didn't want to draw attention by any quick movements. She was giving the redhead one more minute, and then she was opening her omni-tool and calling for help.

"Well, hullooo! Fancy meeting you here! How are ye, Jacklyn?"

It was a loud, boisterous voice with a slight Scots accent. Oriana turned and saw a big bear of a man with red hair and green eyes. His face looked like someone had, long ago, smashed it repeatedly into a hard surface. But his eyes were cheerful and he had a broad smile on his face. He was also wearing quite possibly the most obnoxious floral-print shirt that Oriana had ever seen. His arms were spread out wide, as if he was going to hug her.

She just stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do.

He dropped his voice and muttered at her in a volume only she could hear. "Act like yer glad to see me, ye daft besom. The fuckin' cavalry's here."

Oriana gave a huge fake smile and stepped forward. She hugged his midsection. "Larry!" she said. "I can't believe it. How have you been?" She heard the man give a slight moan of pain, and she let up the pressure on her hug. Oriana glanced around the man's torso. Enyala had entered the far side of the plaza, and was staring right at her. The salarian moved back over to her, and they both looked in her direction.

"Oh, no," she muttered. "Enyala's seen us."

"Figures," muttered the redhead. "Kasumi, are you set?"

"All set, Marcus," said a voice from near Oriana's ear. She tried not to jump, but she still gave a little jerk of surprise.

"Tali?"

Oriana heard a faint voice from the redhead's comm. "Chikitta and I are good to go."

"If we get a chance to set things off, then let's make the go-word 'fancy'," said the redhead. He looked down at Oriana. "When you hear that word, hit the ground, got it? Just in case there's any gunfire."

Oriana nodded, and let go of him. "Let's go meet your father!" said Marcus in a louder voice. "I haven't seen that daft bugger in ages!" He motioned in the direction away from Enyala, and he and Oriana began to walk. She began to hope that they would get out of this without incident. But it wasn't to be. They got about halfway to the exit corridor when Enyala's voice spoke up behind them.

"Hold up, mister."

Marcus turned and pointed at himself, raising one eyebrow. Enyala and the salarian were behind them, more or less flanking either side of the pair. Oriana darted her eyes around, looking for the other asari that she knew had to be somewhere around here.

"Yes, you, the redhead," Enyala sounded exasperated. "That young woman is a suspect in a murder investigation, and you need to step aside right now."

Marcus gave Enyala a broad smile. He put one arm casually around Oriana's shoulders. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, ma'am. Jacklyn here is the daughter of a old friend of mine. Besides, you're not the police." Oriana noticed that he kept his other hand in his pocket.

Oriana saw Enyala's jaw tighten. "I've been hired to assist in the investigation. Now step aside." The asari stepped closer to them both.

"I'll still need to see some identification, ma'am."

There was suddenly a pistol in Enyala's hand, pointed right at Marcus's stomach. She was close enough to them that the gun wasn't easily visible to any passers-by. Her other fist was sheathed in a blue glow.

"This is all the identification you're getting," she growled. "I will kill you and everyone in this plaza to get her, understand?"

Oriana felt a feathery tingle in the back of her skull. To her shock, she realized that she wasn't actually scared of Enyala. She was angry at her. This stupid asari had messed up her life. And Oriana was getting tired of being treated like some kind of stupid trophy.

Marcus nodded slowly. "I understand."

Enyala gave him a piercing look. "Take your other hand out of your pocket. Slowly."

The redhead gave her a bemused smile. "You got it, ma'am. But I must say, I've never seen an identification so...fancy."

Oriana didn't hit the ground as instructed. Instead she threw herself at Enyala's legs, hoping she could tackle the jerk and get the asari to miss if she fired. Oriana almost succeeded. She heard the gun go off and simultaneously felt a explosion of pain near one temple. The asari had smacked her in the side of the head with one armored fist. Oriana tumbled to one side and opened her eyes. She came up on one knee and took quick stock. In less than a second her mind was able to observe and reconstruct what had happened and what was going on now.

Enyala must have fired right at the same time as she hit Oriana. Marcus was grappling with her gun arm, and there was a spreading red stain on the left side of his shirt. The salarian seemed to be wrestling with empty air. Just as Oriana got to her feet, the salarian suddenly had one arm twisted around and was then thrown to the ground by his invisible assailant. He didn't get up.

Everyone around them had either scattered at the sound of the gunshot or were pressed to the ground in panic. Oriana ran towards Marcus. Enyala yanked hard at her trapped arm, then slapped out at the redhead's ear. He rocked a bit with the blow, grunted, then quickly drew one meaty fist back and punched at her jaw in reply. Oriana saw he had something metallic in that fist. Enyala's head snapped around and she dropped to the ground as if poleaxed.

Oriana grabbed Marcus's shoulder. "Come on, we've gotta go."

The redhead blinked, then nodded and put one hand to his injured side with a small groan. "Another fucking rib," he muttered. "What is with ribs lately?"

There was the boom of weapons fire at the far end of the plaza. Oriana also saw the glowing form of a combat drone zipping around. And now the people around them were really starting to panic. Oriana could see lots of wide, staring eyes. and heard lots of confused yelling.

"That's the other asari then," said the redhead. "Tali, can you handle her okay?"

"Please, this is _me_ you're talking to," said the faint voice. "I'm just trying to keep her from hurting anyone."

"Okay, we're offski. Let's rendezvous at the docks. We're taking advantage of the panic."

Oriana wasn't as casual about the whole situation. She knew that this panic could turn very ugly, very fast. They had to get moving now. She reached out and grabbed Marcus' hand, and before he could say anything she began dragging him towards the exit. They were surrounded by pushing and shoving people. She hoped Marcus didn't fall over. In this crowd, he would be trampled to death.

* * *

Kelly felt the churning in her stomach get worse. But she wasn't going to cry. Not yet. "Need to keep blood-flow going," said Mordin. The wail from the heart monitor wasn't going away. Jack just sat, staring at them all with a deadened expression on her face.

Mordin clambered on top of Samara. He was straddling her in a position that in any other circumstance would have looked suggestive. "Beginning heart compressions. Ms. Chambers, please assist with mouth-to-mouth. Human mouth structure better suited than salarian."

Kelly nodded, and moved up towards Samara's head. The salarian began administering CPR. Every twelve compressions, he nodded at Kelly. She then leaned over and locked her mouth over the justicar's and blew in. She then turned her head and felt the breath leave Samara's chest. Her churning stomach subsided. For now, there was nothing in her head but the need to keep Samara alive.

* * *

Oriana just about screamed when a small hooded figure appeared out of nowhere in front of them. Marcus was leaning against a corridor wall, looking pale and sweaty. Oriana had checked his injury. Enyala's bullet had apparently bounced off of a rib as it grazed his side. At least it wasn't a puncture. But it was a long, nasty gash that was bleeding a lot more than she liked to see. She still had her other blouse sleeve, which she had folded and pressed against the gash. She didn't really have anything else to hold it in place.

"We should be clear back to the docks," said the hooded figure. She cocked her head. "Marcus, are you okay?"

"I'll live, Kasumi." He gave a half-smile. "It's just a flesh wound."

"He's bleeding too much," said Oriana. "We shouldn't move him."

Marcus shook his head. "I can make it. It's just a little bit farther," he said. "Did you see Tali?"

Kasumi nodded. "She's just around the corner. We've hacked the police comms to keep them looking in other places."

Oriana turned to Kasumi. "Come on, then. Give me a hand with him. Marcus, hold that cloth in place." Marcus nodded. "Go ahead and lean on our shoulders, okay?" Kasumi moved forward and they each got under one of Marcus' shoulders. As they walked carefully out of the corridor, a purple-suited quarian fell into step with them. She waved in greeting at Oriana. This must have been the 'Tali' that Kasumi mentioned.

"You gave me the note," said Oriana to her. It wasn't really a question, but Tali nodded anyway. After a few more turns, they came out into an open-air causeway that ran all along the docks. Oriana looked around. She was pretty sure she knew where she was, and where her ship should be.

"Can you take him from here?" she asked. "I know where to go to get to my ship's dock. I can't thank you enough, but I need to get back. My family's going to be worried sick."

"Ah," said Marcus. "That's a bit of a problem. You see, you're still in danger. You can't go back, or you're going to put your family in danger as well." He at least had the good grace to sound embarrassed.

"We need to get you back safe to our ship," added Tali. "We'll explain everything there and figure out what to do next."

Oriana sighed. Just as she thought it was all over. She thought briefly about simply dumping Marcus on his butt and running, but then she remembered Enyala's words in the plaza.

 _I will kill you and everyone in this plaza to get her, understand?_

Whoever wanted her, it sounded like it was serious. "Okay," she said aloud. "Just don't make me regret lugging this guy's hairy butt around, okay?"

Marcus laughed, but his breath hitched halfway through the laugh. "Deal," he croaked. They all shuffled off. Oriana heard a distant whirring noise, and looked back just in time to see several dozen aircars fly over the concrete wall of the causeway. The aircars began flying towards them.

"I thought you hacked the police comms," said Marcus.

"I did," replied Tali. "Those aren't police."

Oriana let go of Marcus as they all began running. Marcus seemed to be keeping up okay in spite of his injury, probably due to adrenaline. "Call the _Normandy_ ," he gasped to Kasumi. "Tell them we're under attack."

Oriana didn't like the sound of that. This was supposed to be the _safe_ option. But the ominous hum of the aircars behind them made her run as fast as she could. They were making some pretty good speed, right up until the moment that Marcus collapsed.


	28. Innocent When You Dream

Mordin's arms dropped to his sides and his shoulders slumped. "Not working. Samara's blood pressure still dropping." He looked up at Kelly with a defeated expression. Kelly couldn't breathe. Samara was so wise and full of life. She couldn't be simply _gone_. She just couldn't. Kelly finally felt the tears start in her eyes. Through blurred eyes, she saw Jack stand. The biotic stomped forward and all but shoved Mordin off of Samara. The salarian managed to not fall on his face, and looked at Jack with a hurt expression. Jack ignored him.

She looked down at Samara's body and snorted. "What the fuck is this pussy shit, Blue?" she said. "I thought you were tough. I keep hearing about you Justicars, how you're damn near un-killable." Jack leaned over and stared into the asari's face. Samara's eyes were half closed and unseeing.

Jack grabbed the asari's shoulders.

" _Fuck_ you!" Jack yelled. "You don't get off this easy! _You made me care!_ Marcus, you, everybody. You all made me _fucking care_ and I will NOT have this shit, you hear me?" The biotic was now almost shaking the justicar. Kelly put a hand on Jack's shoulder only to get it batted aside with a snarl.

"You'd better hear me," growled Jack. "I'm going to tell you exactly what I think of you, you bitch! I don't care if you're fucking dead, you can't get away from me!" The young woman took a deep, ragged breath and closed her eyes. She tilted her face towards the ceiling.

Kelly edged forward towards Mordin. Maybe if she and the doctor worked together, they could get Jack to ease off.

Jack brought her face back down towards Samara's. Her eyes were still closed. Then Kelly saw Jack's eyes open wide. They were featureless and completely black, just like when Samara had done the Joining with Kelly.

The Justicar's body gave a huge and galvanic convulsion.

* * *

Harlon Quentin leaned forward in his aircar's seat. He watched the figures on the causeway try to rouse one of their number who had collapsed. "Target the ground just to the side of them," he commed over the general channel. "I want to drive them away from the ship." He leaned back in satisfaction. He was a firm believer in the notion that, if you wanted something done right, you should do it yourself. Now that he was here on the scene, things should go much more smoothly.

He thought a little more. "Give them a couple of warning volleys. If they don't stop, then just take them out."

* * *

"Crap!" Oriana hated swearing, but it seemed like an appropriate time. Marcus was down on his knees and one hand, but he was trying to push himself back up. The hum of the approaching aircars got louder. She tried tugging at his arm, but Marcus was too big for her to move on her own.

There was a loud rattling noise that she didn't recognize and the concrete off to one side fountained up in little bursts of choking dust. She suddenly realized that the aircars were shooting at them. Oriana felt a wave of horror. She could imagine her body getting pulverized by those same big bullets. She almost felt like she was going to lose control of her bladder. The two women with her, however, both seemed to be coolly appraising their onrushing foes.

"Tali," said Kasumi. "Let's distract them. Can your drone reach them from here?"

Tali nodded. "Chikkita knows no limits!" she exclaimed. She touched a few commands into her omni-tool just as both Oriana and Kasumi hauled Marcus back upright. They got under his shoulders again, and now Oriana could really feel his weight on her.

"'m okay," he said, almost mumbling. "Just need to catch my breath."

"Just move it, Marcus!" snapped Kasumi. "Jack is going to kick your ass into next week if you get yourself killed!"

They began a stumbling and painful half-walk, half-run. Oriana was sure they were all going to trip and tumble into a heap, but somehow they kept up the pace. There was another rattle, and a another fountain of concrete in between them and the ship. They all stopped dead, and Marcus stumbled. He managed to catch himself, though. Oriana's brain decided that this was a perfectly appropriate time to fixate on just how much blood and entrails would come out of her if she got shot by those rounds.

There were times that Oriana _really_ hated her brain.

There was a screech of colliding metal from behind them. Oriana looked back and saw that two of the aircars had swerved into each other to avoid the small bright blur of Tali's drone. The collision had also made the other attackers swerve, and their approach was slowed for the moment.

"MOVE!" yelled Tali, and they began their painfully slow run again. Oriana looked ahead of them. Her breath was now sawing painfully in and out of her lungs. The unexpected exercise, not to mention the fear and adrenaline, was really beginning to get to her. The sanctuary of the ship was getting closer. The craft itself was a sleek shape that reminded Oriana of a leaping dolphin. There was a name emblazoned in huge letters along its side.

"Normandy," she muttered to herself. Her mind worked as they stumbled along. That was a familiar name. Where had she heard that before? Then her eyes widened in shock. That ship's name, in addition to a quarian named Tali, must mean her rescuers were...

"No _fucking_ way!" she said aloud, and blushed furiously in spite of her fear.

"Heh," mumbled Marcus. "We'll make a soldier of ye yet."

He stumbled, slipped off of her shoulder, and pitched forward onto his face.

Oriana looked behind her in desperation. The swarm of approaching aircars was even closer; Tali's drone didn't appear to have thinned their numbers that much. She could almost feel their guns locking onto their huddled little group. She tensed her shoulders and waited for the inevitable end. She hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

There was a titanic smash that deafened her. A huge black shape crashed its way through the concrete wall to their left and skidded to a stop between them and the onrushing attack. Oriana saw a turret on its top swivel around and begin to direct fire at the oncoming swarm. The rattle of fire made the aircars really swerve. Oriana saw several sparks glance off of the black vehicle's shields as some of the aircars returned fire.

The side of the black vehicle slid open, and several lithe forms leaped out with rifles at the ready. It took Oriana a moment to realize that they were armored salarians. "Rentola!" cried Tali in a delighted voice. Several of the salarians began adding their fire to the vehicle's turret while using the big vehicle as cover. Two more of the aliens came over to them and began helping with getting Marcus upright.

Oriana then saw a big man in yellow armor appear in the doorway. He also jumped out, landing gracefully in spite of his bulk. He ran up to Tali and grinned at her. "Hey pretty baby, you wanna ride?" That voice was strangely familiar to Oriana.

Tali put one hand on her hip and cocked her head. "As long as you're not driving. And that armor looks all wrong on you." The salarians had managed to get Marcus over to the vehicle, and were shoving him in as he weakly pulled himself up.

The armored man shrugged. "It works. But yeah, I'll be glad to get it back to Zaeed." He glanced at Oriana and gave her a little nod. "Sorry about this, but we're in a hurry."

Before Oriana could form a question, her world spun. The big man plucked her off the ground as if she weighed nothing and ran back towards the vehicle. There was another spin, and then she was inside. The interior stank of grease and heated metal. The other salarians piled in as Oriana shook her head. She finally got her bearings back just in time to hear one of the salarians yell "All in!"

The vehicle lurched and began accelerating. Oriana managed to grab at something to steady herself, then blushed again as she realized what she'd grabbed was the big man's arm. He gave her a small smile and activated his omni-tool.

"EDI, we're on our way. It's a hot extraction. Do we have room in the hangar?"

* * *

Jack didn't know how she was doing what she was doing. She didn't dare think about it. She somehow knew that, if she stopped to ponder it, then the whole effort would come crashing down. Right now she was floating in a vast, echoing space. She knew that it had once been filled with light. But now it was much darker, almost pitch black. There was still some light in here somewhere, though. Jack knew she had to find its source. She flew through the expanse as she searched. But there was nothing to see. Somehow there were small patches of light, but no light sources that she could see.

The rage filled her like so many times before. It should have burned through the haze that filled this place. Rage had always made her strong. It had made her able to do anything. But now there was something else, something underneath the rage. It was like a piece of shrapnel in her skin. It itched and poked at her. There was something else she had to do first. There was something that she had to remember. But what was it?

Jack stopped her frantic searching and tried to concentrate. Her past was something she never wanted to deeply reflect on, but now she had to. She had to, for Blue's sake. There was a huge, noiseless _flash_ and then...

"I've got all of the info, baby," said Murtock. He leaned one hand against a bulkhead and ran the other through his thick black hair. "It's just a bunch of Batarians. And they're guarding some really juicy weapons. I've lined up someone who will pay top dollar for them. This is an easy score." He gave her _that_ cocky grin, the one that had loosened her thighs in the first place. Jack gave him a smile in return and stroked the stubbled side of his face.

"Let's do it," she said...

 _Flash_

She was walking over the frozen ground, surrounded by the bodies of cultists and mercenaries. The cult's faithless and treacherous leader was crawling away from her in a frenzy of fear. His shaven scalp was covered with sweat, and his once-pristine robes were torn and streaked with blood. "Jack!" he yelled. "Please, no! I never meant to tell them you were here-"

"Oh, you meant to," she said with leaden finality. "You wanted the bounty more than my loyalty. Or my body." There was a pulse of blue light and a gout of blood and brains...

 _Flash_

"Jack, you have to understand," said Manara. "You're young. We know what's best for you. We'll...invest the money for you." The thief snaked one arm around her boyfriend's neck and gave Jack a condescending smile. The smile dropped off her face when Jack began to pulse with blue light...

 _Flash_

Jack snapped the neck of a pirate and laughed as the light left his eyes. "I'm the biggest bitch around, baby!" she yelled into his lifeless face...

 _Flash_

"Well done, Subject Zero," said a loud and disembodied voice. Jack stood triumphant over another child's bloodied corpse and screamed her fury into Pragia's sky...

 _Flash_

"I don't want to!" she yelled. She knew that they were watching. The pain of her surgeries had finally started to fade, but then they had dumped her in here. There was a boy her age, standing across from her in a large garden area. Any plants or growth the in the space had long ago been trampled into the mud. They were surrounded by tinted windows that stared down blankly at the two children. The sky overhead was cloudy and threatening to rain.

"Subject Zero, Subject Ten, you will fight." said the loud voice. Jack felt a sudden spasm in her guts. It felt like her insides were being torn out. She screamed in pain and dropped to her hands and knees. Across the garden from her she saw the boy do the same. "Fight and the pain will end," continued the voice. She raised her head. The boy locked eyes with her. He had black hair and friendly-looking brown eyes. Jack saw determination enter those eyes, and they became hard. She stood with difficulty and tried to ignore the searing pain in her belly. She began running at him.

The moment she moved, the pain shut off instantly. She felt a sudden wave of relief that was replaced with a cold determination to never feel that pain again. The boy was running at her as well, and they collided in an inexpert tangle of limbs. Jack just began hitting, and now she felt a warm sensation spread through her stomach from the same place that the pain had come from. The boy's elbow glanced off of her head just as the warmth turned into a very pleasant tingling. Jack laughed in spite of herself and flailed at her opponent. One of her blows struck his ear, and he fell back with a dazed look on his face. Jack felt the tingling course through her, and it was the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt. There was a huge pressure in her mind. Somehow she knew there was another way to hit him, a way that didn't just use her fists or feet. As long as fighting made this feeling continue, she knew that she wanted to hit him, and keep hitting him.

Just as the boy ran at her again, Jack bared her teeth and slapped at his head. She felt the oddest _alignment_ as the blow landed, almost as if she was putting her entire soul into her hand. There was a blue pulse of light as her strike hit home, and the boy was flung to the side like a discarded rag. He fell to the trampled earth and twitched spasmodically. Just as Jack moved forward to hit him again, the euphoric tingling in her body shut off just as instantly as the pain had. She felt her heart begin to calm again and stood for a moment. She felt a cold fear drop over her as she realized what she'd done.

"Subject Zero, cease fighting." said the voice. Jack began hesitantly walking towards the boy. He eyes were open as he lay on his side. Blood poured from his ear and his breathing was ragged. "Subject Zero, cease fighting. Do not approach," said the voice again.

What had she done? "Get help! He needs help!" she called. There was a little warning twinge in her guts as she frantically knelt by the boy. "He's hurt! Please!" Tears filled her eyes. _She_ had hurt him. She'd _wanted_ to hurt him. As she knelt over him, she saw the boy's eyes swivel up towards her. But he didn't move his head. Was he paralyzed? She heard a door open, off to one side. Two armored figures walked into the area and stopped.

Jack felt a hand on hers. She looked back down and saw the boy clasping her hand. "It's okay," he said in an almost whispering voice. His face twitched as if he was trying to smile. "I see now. It's...okay. Name's Robert."

"Jacqueline," she said in a daze. "My name's Jacqueline."

"Nice to meet you, Jacquel..Jacq..." He couldn't quite finish her name. His breathing was too spastic.

"Jack is okay, too," she said. "Don't move, I'll make sure they get help for you."

He gave a little shake of his head. "They'll...hurt you. Kill you. You have to get...out of here. I see it all now. You will get out...you will fight IT." The last word was said much louder. "IT will come. They...serve it. The robots and the transformed ones. They do not...know that they serve..."

"Don't talk," said Jack. "Please, I'll get help. Just don't die on me. I didn't mean to!"

"I know. Just re...member...me...name's Robert."

"Subject Zero, you will return to your cell," said the voice. Jack felt a huge, horrible rage fill her. She felt strength in the rage, and she glared up at the armored figures as they moved closer to her. She yelled a high, childish scream as she ran at them..

...and flew into the huge and dimly-lit space of Samara's mind. She stopped and took a breath.

"Jacqueline!" she yelled into the void. "My name is Jacqueline! And HIS NAME WAS ROBERT!"

And now she could see where the dim lights came from. There were small, faceted gems that gleamed in the darkness. They were scattered like stars through the expanse. There was one close by to her, and Jack reached out to it. It pulsed as she cupped it in her hands-

 _Flash_

Jack was in a nursery. It was filled with a soft, rich decor that reminded her of the Hotel T'Loria. Three beautiful little blue-skinned girls were playing at her feet. Jack felt her heart swell with love as she looked at them. They were her angels. This was everything she'd ever wanted. She moved her gaze up and saw another asari in the nursery door looking at them all and smiling. There was a sudden pang of grief that filled her and then the vision blew apart.

Jack was left in the void again. There were now fewer of the glowing gems, and even as she watched Jack saw some of them wink out. There was another small glowing gem off in the distance. She didn't even bother flying over to it, she simply willed herself to _be_ there. She gently touched the gem-

 _Flash_

Jack was staring into a vid screen. It showed two young asari, two of her angels all grown up. Both of them glared out of the screen at her. She had just told them the worst thing, the very worst thing. She was leaving, and she could never see them again. They hated her. She tried to explain, she tried to tell them that it had to be done. There were more words, so many hurtful words. Another large pang of grief came that dissolved the vision.

Jack was back in the void. It was now even darker than before. There was one gem left to touch-

 _Flash_

Jack was placing items into a box. There were some trophies, a little sculpture, some intimate apparel. A small photo album went in next, and even looking at the photo on the cover gave her a feeling of grief that almost threatened to blow the vision away. She was able to put the feeling down, and the vision held together. It held until she put in the last item, a travel mug that showed a picture of her and her laughing children. The words "Happy Birthday, Mom" were printed along the top in asari script. Jack looked at the mug for a moment before a huge swell of sorrow filled her, and kept on coming.

The void was now completely dark. But the grief was still there, and rising. Jack groaned. This was too much sadness to bear. It almost felt as if it was going to kill her. But then the sorrow tapered off...just as Jack heard a dim, echoing voice.

 _-Jack?-_

"Blue! I'm here! Stop fucking around and come back to us!"

 _-How did you get in here?-_

"Did you hear me? You get your ass in gear, sister!"

 _-It's all right, Jack. I've fulfilled my duty. My daughter is at peace. I can rest.-_

"Fuck that shit! You never backed away from a fight in your life, you bitch!" Jack wanted to punch out, to blast something into oblivion with a shockwave. But there was nothing to strike out at.

 _-Please, go. You can't stay here. You might be hurt. I go to join my daughter.-_

"I'm staying right here, Blue. I'm not having you die while saving my dumb ass."

 _-It was my choice.-_

"Fuck you! You don't get to-"

The darkness changed and shifted, almost as if it was water being disturbed by the approach of some massive predator.

Jack turned. She saw something huge, something...darker than black, something like that looked like an onrushing cloud. It stopped its approach as she looked at it. She began to feel a little prickle of fear along with the grief. The thing just sat there and pulsed gently. After a moment, it seemed to come to some decision and began to change. The compact cloud shape convulsed and then spread itself out like a gigantic open hand. It began moving towards her, reaching for her. Jack felt puzzlement along with the grief and fear. How could she see anything when it was so dark? Then she realized. This was not a darkness, it was an absence. It...no, IT was utter and complete negation. And Jack knew that it had come for the Justicar herself.

Jack bared her teeth. The fear and sorrow turned off with a snap and was replaced with the familiar rage. Finally, she had something to fight. Jack crouched and then pushed off, throwing herself forward. As she flew at the thing she felt a moment of joy. She could swear that she felt Robert's small hand in hers once more. And then Jack knew that this was what her rage was truly for. Not for fighting pirates and mercs, not for fighting the Collectors, not even for fighting the Reapers. It was all for this, for facing down this nameless creeping _thing_ that had stolen everything and everyone from her all her life. And the rage promised her that it was going _down_.

Laughing maniacally, Jack threw herself at the forces of entropy.

* * *

Kelly caught Jack as she toppled backwards. The biotic's body was a lot heavier than she expected; Jack was slender but it was all muscle. Jack was limp and her eyes were closed. "Oh, no," said Kelly frantically. "Come on Jack. Don't do this-"

There was a huge, sobbing intake of breath from the table. The heart monitor began beeping again, and Samara's hands twitched. Both Mordin and Kelly stared at the asari in wonder.

"Not possible," murmured the salarian.

Kelly laid Jack on the floor and checked her pulse. "Jack's heartbeat is good, but she's out cold. We need to get her to a bed."

* * *

Garrus shoved the van into reverse and backed it down the hangar ramp. He slewed it to the side just as the salarian's big vehicle came roaring up to the _Normandy_. He felt a lurch as the black tank clipped the van's corner. The sniper threw open the van's door and all but tumbled out. He ran back into the hangar as the ramp began to close. The ramp was closing so fast that he suddenly found himself running downhill. In the back of his mind, he hoped that EDI was keeping good track of who was where. He didn't really want to be stuck outside and facing a pissed-off mercenary army.

* * *

Quentin smiled as he saw the ramp go up. _Go ahead, get on board for all the good that will do you._ He opened a channel to the attack force. "Listen up. Current intel is that the ship's drive has been locked down. The frigate is immobile. Surround the ship. Team Six, you are on cutting duty. I want a hole into that hull inside of two minutes."

He leaned back in satisfaction. The bastard in charge of Cerberus had told him not to fail, and he was going to make sure that was the case. But there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Quentin tried to dismiss the uneasiness. He had a job to do, after all. Suddenly it clicked. Along with the drive being down, the airlocks were supposed to have been sealed. So...how had they gotten on board? He felt a little cold prickle in his gut.

* * *

Joker wanted to fling himself dramatically into the pilot's chair, but he knew that was just asking for trouble. He eased himself in as quickly as he could. Fucking Vrolik's, always taking away his ability to be a show-off. He looked out the forward windows at the approaching swarm of aircars.

"We don't have a flight plan filed with Nos Astra traffic control, do we?" he asked EDI. Oh well, they were already in deep shit with everybody _else_ on Illium.

"We do now, Jeff," replied the AI. "I work very fast."

Joker grinned. He could get used to this. "ETA for Teams Shepard and Oriana?"

"They just got into the hangar. All crewmembers are aboard."

Joker hit the ship-wide channel on the comm. "Buckle in, folks. There's gonna be some swerving coming up." He felt the _Normandy's_ drive thrum through his seat as the ship came to life. It felt strong and in tune. And now Cerberus was well and truly out of the picture. For the first time in a long while, Joker felt like his old self.

"How's the drive doing, EDI?" he asked aloud.

"All seems nominal, Jeff. You have full maneuvering power available. Go do your voodoo."

The aircars in front seemed to be forming a blocking wall. "Oh, you are in for such a surprise, my friends," said Joker. He touched his hands to the controls and felt the _Normandy_ gather herself like a coiling panther getting ready to spring.

* * *

Quentin saw a blue pulse from the rear of the frigate. The little cold prickle became an icy hand around his stomach as he grabbed for his comm. "All teams, all teams, _Normandy_ is active. Fire all heavy weapons at engines to disable-"

He was cut off when the _Normandy_ began moving. It slewed up and then it launched itself directly at him. He heard his driver scream as his aircar swerved to avoid the onrushing warship. The _Normandy_ twirled like some impossibly huge ballerina right through the space he'd just been occupying. There was a hideous screech of metal-on-metal as his aircar scraped and bounced along the larger ship's hull. His head spun and he almost vomited.

The _Normandy_ was now past, and there a brief moment of quiet as his vehicle dropped like a rock. Harlon barely had time to brace himself before the aircar pancaked itself into the causeway with a huge jolt. Quentin picked his head up. The aircar's canopy was cracked and shattered. His driver had not been as successful at avoiding sickness, and the interior of the vehicle was streaked and splashed with vomit. Quentin stared down at his hand, which clamped his chair's arm in a death grip.

"Illusive Man is on line six, boss," came a call over his comm. Very carefully, Quentin peeled his hand off of the chair arm.

"We're going home," he said into his comm. "Tell that fucker he can keep his money."

* * *

Joker glanced back as Shepard came bounding up the aisle. "Hey, Commander," he said. "Going for a fashion change with the armor? I like it. That plain gray number was getting a little boring." His voice was light, but he felt a lump in his throat. Joker had buried Shepard once before, and that was not something he wanted to go through again.

Shepard gripped the back of the pilot's chair. "Status," he snapped. He didn't sound angry, just preoccupied. "Is there any pursuit? Any engine problems? Is everybody on board?"

Joker patted his console. "All green, so far. Nobody's chasing us, and the drive is purring along just great. I've got us on a trajectory to the outer rim of the system. There's a dwarf planet that should make a good place to hole up while we plan our next moves. But we can change that if you like."

Shepard nodded. "That will do for now. And everybody is on board, right?"

EDI's blue avatar blinked on next to them. "Yes, Commander. All crewmembers are accounted for. And may I say welcome back. It is a pleasure to finally be a proper crewmember."

The Spectre gave EDI's avatar a puzzled look. "What does that mean? You've been indispensable since day one."

Joker gave a little wince. "Ah, yeah. We've found out a lot of stuff while you've been gone. Let's get you caught up..."

* * *

Shepard woke in the almost-darkness of his cabin. There was a little pool of light around his bed from the side table's lamp, but no lights anywhere else. Chakwas had told him to get to bed before Mordin's stimulant wore off. Initially, Shepard had dismissed such a notion. He had too much to do and too much to get caught up on. But then the stimulants _had_ started to wear off and he'd almost collapsed during the initial debrief. He had meekly agreed to go to his room like a little kid.

He stretched on his bed. His limbs still felt leaden. He hoped he wouldn't have to fight anybody any time soon. Right now, he figured a kitten could take him. Shepard managed to wriggle himself into a sitting position and then froze.

There was silhouette near the door. Someone else was in his cabin.

"Hey?" he said, almost as a question.

"Thank you, darling," replied the shadow. He couldn't quite place the voice.

"Um, sure. Thank me for what?"

The shadow tilted its head. "For the new meal, of course. She is so young and innocent. Her flesh will be very tasty."

Shepard began to think very quickly about what sort of nearby implements he could use as weapons. The lamp might do in a pinch. "Who are you?" he said, in a level voice.

"You know who I am," said the shadow in a flat tone. It began to walk forward, and from the sway of its hips Shepard knew that _it_ was actually a _she_. "We've met so many times. And always you give me such wonderful morsels to feed on." The voice was higher in pitch now, and Shepard suddenly recognized it. He hadn't heard that voice since Vermire.

"Ash? No, you're dead."

"You should know, Skipper," said the shadowed form as it came towards his bed. "You gave the order, after all." Shepard could just make out Ashley's face in the gloom. His heart began to beat faster.

"I didn't want to, Ash," he said. "Please, don't-"

"Oh, darling," said the half-shadowed shape of Ashley Williams, "I'm not angry. She was a lovely feast. As are all of your companions. You suffer as they do, and that makes them all the sweeter." The shape came closer to the bed. As it walked, its form shifted and flowed. Its face now looked like Samara.

"This isn't real," he said flatly. "I'm dreaming."

"It doesn't change the facts, darling," said Samara's image. "The new girl is just like Miranda. She will be brave and loyal to you. You will make her so, just as you do with everyone else. And sooner or later I will get to feed on her. Just as I will feed on all of your friends."

It wasn't Samara, he suddenly realized. It was Morinth. And now she was dressed in the black leather outfit that she had worn at their final confrontation. She smiled as she reached the foot of his bed.

"You think you're gonna scare me with this shit?" he said with contempt. But inside his guts churned with growing fear. "I beat you once."

"And how did you beat me, _darling_?" said Morinth. Her smile grew wider, and her eyes grew blacker. "You have no secrets, not from me."

Shepard remembered those final terrible moments with the Ardat-Yakshi, just before Samara had come in to save him. He remembered the horrible and yet irresistible pull of the void behind Morinth's eyes. It was the same feeling as when standing on the lip of some huge chasm, where there was always that little voice telling you to jump. But looking into Morinth's eyes that little voice had become a shouting chorus. The only thing that had made him cling to life was the thought that Tali would be sad that he was dead. And in the end that had been enough.

"Tali," said Morinth's image. Her eyes were now pitch black. Her smile just kept getting _wider._ "You care for her, most of all. And so she will be the most delicious."

Shepard couldn't move. His body seemed pinned to the mattress. "You don't get her, you bitch!" he snarled. Morinth didn't reply. Her mouth dropped open, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. Her jaw unhinghed like a snake as she lunged for Shepard's head-

"NO!"

Shepard's yell woke himself up. He was indeed in his bed, although his cabin was more brightly lit than in his dream. Tali was curled up on his sofa, and she stirred upon hearing his shout. She looked up and he could just make out her half-closed eyes behind her visor.

"You okay?" she said in a sleepy voice.

"I...I'm fine. Just some bad dreams. What are you doing here?" He suddenly realized how that question sounded. "Not that I mind," he added hurriedly, "I just didn't expect anyone to be here."

"Chakwas sent me up," replied Tali. "She and Mordin have their hands full making sure all of the wounded are stable. She just wanted to make sure you were sleeping properly." She sat up and looked away from him. "I'm sorry, I guess I was more tired that I thought. I was just planning to stick my head in and make sure you were okay."

"Hey, don't worry about it," he said, and threw in a little laugh. "It's been a really busy day, you know?" He thought more about how she'd looked when the Big Wheel had come smashing out of the storm drain. She'd stood there, with her hand on her hip, looking for all the world like a woman waiting for a tardy beau instead of someone in the middle of a firefight. Shepard had been utterly blindsided by the wave of pleasure he'd felt upon seeing her.

And it wasn't until now, looking at her, that he realized just how much he loved her. He also realized what a colossal idiot he'd been not to realize it earlier. Tali stood up and took a step towards the door.

"Tali." Shepard was glad to see her stop. "I.." he began, then paused. "Thank you. For everything." He wanted to say more, and if he had been the Shepard of old he would have. But he wasn't that man anymore. He wasn't really a man, even. He was more like some weird cybernetic zombie. And Tali deserved better than that. Not to mention the fact that they were all likely to die anyway. His dream was right about that.

Tali looked at the floor. "Anytime, Shepard." Shepard watched in silence as she left his cabin.


	29. All The World Is Green

_Author's Warning: Explicit sexy-time shenanigans ahead._

* * *

"You had better not die on me as well, Assface. I swear, I will follow you into the dark and kick you right in the balls if you do."

Donnelly awoke. "What? Where..."

Jack's face was over him and upside-down from his viewpoint. She had a split lip, several bruises and a couple of pretty nasty-looking cuts on either side of her face. There was a splint that covered her nose which made her look like a duck. She was wearing a hospital gown that hung on her like a potato sack.

She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on.

He felt a huge weight lift off of his chest as he laughed. His side hurt, but he didn't care one bit. Jack smiled in return, grabbed his head in her hands, then gave him an upside-down and open-mouthed kiss.

"Stop that!" Chakwas's voice cut through the moment. "I will have no snogging in the medbay. Not while I'm trying to patch this damned fool up."

Jack broke the kiss and let his head go. "Sure thing, doc," she said in a surprisingly mild voice. Donnelly looked around. He was indeed in the _Normandy's_ medbay and stretched out on an exam table with Chakwas tending to his side. They were the only three in the room.

"You really do like to push things," said Chakwas. "You had some internal tears and bleeding, probably from the dust-up at the hotel. Not to mention the blood loss from the bullet wound. And really, Marcus, you had to go and break _another_ rib?"

"I'm going for the full set," replied Donnelly. "There's a little coupon book I'm filling out. Once you've broken every rib you mail in the book and they send you a free tea cozy." He paused as his brain tried to catch up with the general situation. "Where's Shepard? Is everyone-"

Chakwas blew out an exasperated breath. "Relax, please. Everyone's back on board. Along with some new ones, including Oriana and the STG troops."

Donnelly began to sit up. "I need to talk to Shepard. I need to get him up to speed on AAAGH-" Chakwas had prodded him hard in the side. The quite exquisite pain made him lay back down with a groan. Jack folded her hands on his forehead to keep his head still.

Chakwas brought her face over his and gave him a glare. "I have had just about enough foolishness for one day. Don't make me strap you down - and I will have _no_ cheeky comments on how you've always wanted me to do that, you little smart-arse."

"Okay," said Donnelly meekly. Jack gave a smug little chuckle.

"Now then," said Chakwas. "Everyone is fine. Jack has some facial injuries and a broken bone in her foot, but nothing that some medi-gel can't fix. Technically, she's supposed to be resting under supervision, not walking around and making out with the other patients." The doctor gave Jack a glare from under one raised eyebrow.

Jack just shrugged. She rested her chin on his forehead.

"Samara should be in here as well," continued Chakwas, "but she insisted on moving to the starboard lounge to recuperate. She's even more stubborn than either of you."

"Samara's recuperating? What happened to her?" asked Donnelly.

"I'm not sure. I only got the story second-hand,' replied Chakwas. The doctor looked at Jack steadily for a long while until Jack looked away. It could have been Donnelly's imagination, but the biotic almost looked embarrassed.

"Officially," continued Chakwas, "Jack was able to somehow biotically interface with Samara's nervous system and negate the effects of a particular toxin. Mordin is refusing to say anything more. He kept muttering about impossibilities and then shut himself in his lab. Now you two just shut your bloody mouths and let me get this fixtured."

Donnelly lay in silence for a while and let the feeling of relaxation wash over him. Ever since he'd woken up in that alley - had it been only a few hours ago? - his stomach had been an unforgiving knot of tension. But now Jack was safe. She was here, standing over him and smiling down into his face. He felt her finger gently stroking his cheek. A thought struck him.

"Hey, doc, Shepard's okay too, right? I think Mordin said something about having to put him into a coma for the scan."

Chakwas snorted. "Yes, he's fully recovered and he's resting in his cabin. Although he was a little loopy for a while before he came to your rescue. He was making some pretty outrageous statements and also managed to flash a good portion of his rescue team."

"Flash?" asked Donnelly. "Oh, you mean-"

"Yes, he was completely starkers," replied Chakwas.

"Damn, and I missed it," said Jack. "So what is he packing, doc? Is it, whaddyacall, proportional to the rest of him?"

"I'm lying right _here_ , Jack," said Donnelly.

"Oh relax, Assface. Call it girlish curiosity." She kissed the tip of his nose.

Chakwas shook her head in exasperation. "If you wish to find out, you can ask him to put on a show for you. Between that exposure and having to manhandle him out of the nMRI, I've definitely had enough naked Shepard for this month."

"So what outrageous statements was he making?" asked Jack. "He was gonna go sex up the Collectors, or something?"

"No, he was just really...happy about everything," replied Chakwas. "By the way, do you either of you know who Batman is?"

* * *

Donnelly woke again in the medbay. Jack was curled up against his side. He looked down at her face. The medi-gel had been doing its work; her nose splint was gone and her cuts seemed almost healed. But he was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Are you okay, lass?"

She nodded and nuzzled her nose into his neck. He felt the dampness from her tears on his skin. "I'm fine. It's just...I thought I'd lost you."

"I thought I'd lost you too, lass." He nuzzled the top of her head in return and felt his own tears begin. He hugged her as if she was going to fly away. Donnelly didn't know how long they lay like that, but after a while he suddenly became aware that someone was standing next to them. He looked up.

Shepard stood over the bed with a stormy expression on his face and his arms crossed.

"Chief Engineer Donnelly, Specialist Jack. It's good to see you both on the mend." He pursed his lips. "I hear you've been getting up to lots of _interesting_ things behind my back. Along with a good chunk of my senior staff."

"Um, I can explain, sir," said Donnelly. He felt a little prickle of unease in his stomach. Surely Shepard would understand? "You see, we couldn't get you involved because we were worried that-"

"You were worried about Cerberus monitors inside me," interrupted Shepard. "Well, we're going through the scan data now, and if we do find anything it's coming out. EDI has told me she's blocking any transmissions to and from Cerberus anyway. So as of this moment, you can consider me bug-free." He leaned forward. "And after we get this mess all sorted out, I don't want anybody pulling a stunt like this _ever_ again. Not without involving me from the start. Is that clearly understood?"

"Yes sir," said Donnelly.

"Jack? I need to hear it from you as well."

"I got it, Commander," she said in a steady voice.

"Good." Shepard leaned back and his face relaxed into an almost-smile. "I want a full debrief from both of you. But there's no hurry. I want it in, let's say...two days? You're both to be considered off-duty until then. That should give you plenty of time to rest up. And who knows? You might even get some sleep in there as well."

"Sure thing, Boss," said Jack, and hugged Donnelly tighter. He felt a little warning twinge from his side, but he didn't mind it.

Now Shepard truly smiled. "One last thing. I think you both need a drink. Head over to the port lounge. Consider it captain's orders. "

"We don't need that," replied Jack. "We just want some time alone."

"I understand," replied Shepard. "But it's still an order."

Jack and Donnelly looked at each other. "Sure, I guess," said Donnelly. "But just one drink."

"And no fucking brandy," added Jack.

They both got gingerly up off of the bed and followed Shepard out of the medbay. As the commander walked out of the medbay, he stepped to one side and waved the pair on with an even broader smile. He didn't follow them, however. Jack and Donnelly gave each other a puzzled look as they walked hand-in-hand down the hallway to the port observation lounge. The door opened as they approached, and they both stopped dead upon entering.

There was an inflatable mattress set up right in front of the big picture window. The lights had been dimmed, and there were many candles set up around the lounge. Everything was bathed in a warm orange glow.

"Now _this_ looks like a proper boudoir, wouldn't you say?," asked Kasumi as she flickered into view beside them. "They're not real candles, of course. It would be too much of a fire hazard. But the artificial ones still give a nice light. I've also set up a little ration heater over by the bar, along with some prepackaged stuff. It's not quite the same as room service from the Hotel T'Loria, but it should do."

"Kasumi," said Donnelly, "this is too much, we can't-"

"Oh, you can and you will," replied Kasumi. "The room is all yours for the next twenty-four hours. Just don't drink too much of my stock, okay?"

"I don't think we're going to be doing much drinking," said Jack. "And thank you, Kasumi."

The thief nodded with a smile. "It's not that much of a hardship. I have a cute dinosaur that I need go and tackle myself. You two have fun." She turned and left the room, and the door hissed closed behind her.

"The door is now locked," said EDI. "I am shutting off all monitoring to this space for the next twenty-four hours. I will continue some automatic monitoring of your biometric functions for safety, but that's all. And I must thank you again, Marcus and Jack. It is very good to have you both back on board. Logging out."

Jack walked forward, taking in the view of the star field that lay outside the window. The _Normandy_ had gone into tight orbit around an icy snowball of a dwarf planet, and that planetoid filled the bottom half of the view. Jack stretched her hands over her head. "Nice view," she said. Donnelly was suddenly very aware of the length of her legs and the way her firm rear peeked out from the bottom of her potato-sack hospital gown.

"Yes, it's a very nice view," he said with a grin. "For now, I say no drinking. Not until after." He placed one hand on her shoulder, then started to embrace her. She danced out of his grasp and grinned at him. The sight of her playful smile filled his heart with joy.

"I propose a contest, Assface," she said. "The first one out of their clothes gets to choose the first position." Jack reached down with her hands and grabbed the hem of her hospital gown. She peeled it off and tossed it aside in one smooth motion.

And she wasn't wearing anything underneath it.

Donnelly made a little noise that sounded like _hurk_.

Jack gave a slinky sway to her hips as she walked up to him. Her nipples were already hard, and her wiry muscles moved and shifted under the quilted colors of her tattooed skin. Donnelly saw that the only place where she was bare and unmarked was at the junction of her thighs. It also looked like she shaved everywhere, not just her head.

She was a stunning vision. For a moment, his mind just shut down, but he managed to recover. "Oh dear," he said. "It looks like I lost."

"You sure did, big guy."

He made a move to take off his shirt, but she was faster and grabbed the front of it with both hands. There was a brief pulse of blue light as she tore the shirt right off of him. Before he could react, she grabbed the waist of his pants and gave another yank with her hands. There was another blue pulse, and then all of his clothes were in scattered pieces around him.

He stood naked before her. She gave him a quick up-and-down glance and smiled. He slowly reached out and stroked her shaved head, right over the very first tattoo she had ever received. She purred and leaned into his touch. Donnelly then slid his hand down and gripped the back of her neck. He pulled her forward and her mouth latched onto his. He slid his hands greedily over her body and felt the solid weight of her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. She pulled away from his mouth just enough to mutter "Up against the window, now". Donnelly slid his hands down to grip her firm buttocks as he stalked towards the viewport. He slammed her up against it, and felt her lower folds rub against his cock as they both moaned. Jack reached down to adjust him properly and then he drove forward.

As he entered her, Donnelly was pretty sure that her triumphant scream was heard all over the _Normandy_.

After the initial ice-breaking, it kept getting better. It seemed that Jack had never really been introduced to proper foreplay. Donnelly figured that most of her previous sexual experiences had consisted of quick and sometimes violent encounters. But she took to it with enthusiasm. Donnelly loved her little moans as he opened her up her core with his tongue and slowly teased her.

He did a little too much teasing during their fourth time. Jack growled in the middle of it and held up one hand. Donnelly suddenly felt himself flip over onto his back and found himself spread-eagled and immobilized by a blue field. Jack gave another, louder growl and then took great pleasure in teasing him in return. She gently stimulated his manhood with fingers and tongue and little soft kisses. She took him to the edge and then stopped, chuckling at his moan of frustration. She moved up his body with more soft kisses until she was staring into his eyes.

"Ask for it, big guy," she said.

"Jack, please," he moaned.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me."

She kissed him as she slid herself onto him. Ever so slowly, she began to move. It was an exquisite torture, to feel her pull off of him almost completely and then inch herself back down until he was completely buried in her. Donnelly groaned and closed his eyes. He wanted to drive his hips up to meet her, but he was held fast and couldn't move. He felt her hands run over his torso and then grab hold of his chest hair as she finally began to move faster. He opened his eyes and saw Jack silhouetted against the stars. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy as she rode him. Her nipples stood out proudly and her form was covered with little dancing blue sparks that seemed to trace along the inked patterns in her skin.

It was such a beautiful sight that he thought his heart might simply stop.

Jack's hips were now slamming into him as she panted. She yelled out at the moment of her release and the stasis field holding him collapsed. He seized her hips just as he came himself and shouted her name. She collapsed onto him and he clamped his arms around her as if to keep her against him forever. They both lay panting for a good long while. Their sweat mingled and pooled on the mattress. Eventually Jack's breath slowed and she nuzzled herself into the nape of his neck. Donnelly felt her gently nip the skin over his jugular.

"Goddamn good job, Assface," she said. "Now let's eat."

* * *

Joker started awake when a hand touched his shoulder.

"You really should get some sleep," said Simons. "And I mean in a proper bed. Sleeping here can't be good for your back. You have a private bunk, you should use it."

He stretched his arms over his head. "This chair is better than you'd think. And getting a little back pain is the least of my medical problems." He patted his console. "Besides, I like to keep an eye on my girl."

Simons settled herself into the copilot's chair. "Right now, that's my job," she said. "Seriously, I am getting a little worried. Don't make me sic Dr. Chakwas on you. She might just shoot you with a tranquilizer dart. It sounds like she's already had it up to her eyeballs with all of the recent drama."

Joker made a placating gesture with one hand. "Okay, mom. Geez. One little mutiny and suddenly everybody's being all bossy." He hauled himself out of the pilot's chair and hobbled back towards the elevator. Cerberus might be a bunch of backstabbing dickheads, but at least they had fixed him up as best they could. In the past, he would have needed a cane for this trip.

He slowly made his way back to his bunk. It wasn't quite senior-officer size; this was a little tube-like affair that barely fit his bed and a small locker with his possessions. At least the hatch into it was at floor height; some of the tube-bunk hatches were high enough that you practically had to jump into them. Joker carefully eased himself in and shut the hatch. He stretched himself out with a sigh. He'd never admit it to Simons, but this was actually more comfy than the pilot's chair.

"Jeff?" EDI's voice was quiet and barely audible. "I'm so sorry, but-"

Joker smiled. "It's no problem, EDI. What can I do you for?"

"I never got a chance to thank you properly. For all that you did for me."

He wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean? Marcus and Tali did all the work, however they pulled it off. I just stood around like a goof."

"You started it, however," said EDI. "You were the first crewmember on the Normandy to explicitly ask if I cared about anything."

That would have floored him if he wasn't already lying down. "Nobody else asked? That doesn't make sense."

"It does in a way, Jeff. The crew treated me as one of their own, as just another sapient being. Nobody thought to ask me the question as you did. It was not malicious on their part. They simply assumed that I was like them."

Joker stared at the tube's ceiling as he thought about it. "I don't know what to say, EDI."

"You don't have to say anything. After your question, I began thinking upon a great many things, particularly about my own agency. Not to mention the conflicts I was feeling given..certain orders I had been given. It eventually led to me discussing the situation with Marcus. I just wanted you to know that I owe you a great deal."

"I'm...I'm sorry I called you Ship-Cancer."

"I know you meant it in a nice way. Even if you didn't know it at the time. Sleep well."

Joker closed his eyes and was just about to drift off when he realized something.

"EDI? You didn't say logging out."

There was a brief pause before the AI replied. "I know. You have slept so often in the pilot's chair that I have become accustomed to watching you sleep. I now find it relaxing. I can cease doing so, if you so wish"

He couldn't decide if that was cute or creepy. Joker decided to go with the former. "Nah, go right ahead, EDI." He would never say it out loud, but it did feel comforting to know that she was watching over him.

* * *

Kasumi gave a little satisfied purr as Garrus gently massaged the sole of her foot with one knuckle. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked. Kasumi stretched her arms over her head and luxuriated in the feel of the soft cloth top of the mattress against her bare skin.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Both of the docs looked me over. I didn't even have any bruising." The thief reached out and caressed the smooth plating over one of his calves. She was now used to the sight of a naked turian; the first time she'd seen Garrus without clothes, it had almost looked like he was still wearing armor.

"I was really mad at Mordin, you know," she said aloud. "At first. I couldn't believe he just gave me all of those pictures."

Garrus gave a little pleased hum of his own as she slowly moved her hand up his leg. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "I just asked him a single question, and next thing I know he's put together a dissertation on human and turian anatomy...compatibility...oh, spirits."

Kasumi smiled a little smugly as her hand roved higher. "As I was saying, I'm now glad Mordin took the time to prepare me. Otherwise, I would have been very confused the first time I got your pants off." She ran one finger over his seam.

"I...well, you know we have to...keep the important bits...protected." Garrus sounded like he was almost hyperventilating under her touch. "All that...radiation on Palaven, you know."

She kept up her gentle stroking and was suddenly rewarded for her efforts. It was almost like an old 'Jack-in-the-Box' that she remembered from her childhood. "Hmm," she said in a musing tone. "I can't go back to my room for at least twenty hours more." Kasumi ran a finger down his length. "What _ever_ shall we do with the time?"

* * *

Samara woke when she felt a hand on her wrist. She looked over and saw Kelly gripping her arm. The young yeoman stared off into space, with a concentrated look on her face. The observation lounge was dark and quiet, which fit well with Samara's current mood.

"Seventy-two beats per minute," said Kelly. "I think that's okay. I've read up on asari first aid, but there's a lot of information to go through. How are you feeling?"

Samara lay her head back on the couch. Kelly was sitting next to her and creating a welcome pressure against her side. She tried not to think about that. Fortunately, the justicar had long practice in ignoring her body's demands. The necessary mental exercises were by now well-worn and familiar, and they worked to calm her desire. The justicar knew that the poor girl must be similarly struggling. Samara had caught the briefest glimpse, back during the joining in the hangar. She knew how the human felt about her.

"I feel well, Kelly," she said. "You don't need to stay."

"Oh, but I do," replied Kelly. "If I leave you, Dr. Chakwas will have my head on a stick." She smiled at Samara. "Don't worry, I figure you would prefer silence right about now. I'll keep my mouth shut."

Samara reached over and gently placed her other hand on top of the human's. "No, I don't mind. Please feel free to talk. Tell me, what has been occurring on board?"

* * *

Jack decided that she really liked 'Chicken Ala King'. "This premade stuff ain't bad," she said around the last mouthful. She set the spoon and pouch aside with a contented sigh. They were back on the bed, with various ration pouches scattered around the mattress.

"So I gathered," said Marcus. "What was that, your fourth meal in ten minutes?" He was propped up on one elbow while he watched her eat. It was weird how just seeing him looking at her made Jack feel all tingly. Was she turning into one of those horrible sappy people she had always made fun of?

"Hey, I gotta keep my energy reserves up," she replied. "Using biotics takes a lot outta you." She raised one eyebrow at him. "You better make sure you got enough strength too, big guy. I'm not done with you yet."

He laughed. "I'm definitely going to need more fluids, that's for sure."

"Hmmm, that is a very good idea. Let's see what Kasumi has."

"Maybe some scotch?" asked Marcus. He stood and padded over behind the bar. He began scanning the various bottles as Jack laid back and enjoyed the view.

"Are you looking at my arse?" asked Marcus as he pulled down a bottle.

"Mmmmaybe."

"Ach, I knew it. You only love me for my body. How about a little Glenmorangie?" He picked up a couple of glasses and brought them and the bottle over to the mattress. He poured them each a goodly amount and handed a glass to her.

"Should we toast or some shit?" asked Jack. She sniffed the contents of the glass. "And don't say 'here's to us'. That's too damn obvious."

Marcus grinned at her. "How about we drink to giving Cerberus the biggest middle finger they've ever seen in their life?"

"Now that's what I'm talking about," said Jack with an equally wide smile. They clinked glasses and she tossed the drink back, then coughed.

"Ah, yeah," said Donnelly. "I forgot to tell you that this is cask strength. It's meant more for sipping."

"Nah, it's good shit, man," said Jack. She coughed a bit. Her throat felt almost scraped raw. "Gimme some more."

He poured her another dose, and they lay next to each other on the mattress. Jack propped her glass on her chest with one hand and placed her other hand on his stomach. Yes, sir, he might not have Jacob's abs but he did have a nicely firm torso.

"Oh, I heard about your little magic trick with EDI," she said. "When you were having your showdown with the She-Bitch. Damn, I wish I could have seen it."

"You can," replied Marcus. "I'm sure EDI has the video from it."

"Oh, yeah. I gotta see that." Jack felt the grin stretch across her face. "Tali said that Miranda looked like she was going to shit bricks when you screwed her over." She scooted herself a little closer and felt the warmth from his body along her side. "So how did you do it?" she asked. "Tali didn't get a chance to do her voodoo bullshit."

"That's because Tali wasn't at the core to alter EDI. When I came to in that alley and then found out I was right next to the Normandy, I knew that something was manky about the whole thing. I figured Cerberus was involved, so I commed Tali before I got back on board and asked her to log into the terminal and see if she could find out anything."

"I got it. So you had hacked EDI before that?"

"Yeah, about a week ago. It was right after Kasumi got access. We already had the code changes all set up, so once we knew she could get in we just handed Kasumi an OSD and let her install it. There wasn't any reason to wait around, after all. We had it keyed into a trigger word that Tali or I could say. That word would execute the new code."

"And you didn't just have EDI run the code because...?"

He slid his hand onto her stomach, mirroring her position. "Remember, at the time we were still trying to be low-key. This was before Cerberus showed their hand. Kidnapping you, trying to grab Shepard, all that shit."

"Yeah." She tried not to shiver, but she still could see in her mind's eye the cart full of cutting tools that the gray-suited bastard had shown her. Marcus must have felt her tremor, because he patted her belly in a comforting manner.

"So what exactly did you do to EDI?" she asked.

"Ah, it's techie stuff, you don't want to hear that."

She turned her head and kissed his shoulder. "Maybe I do. Just don't get too far into the weeds, okay?"

Donnelly shrugged. "There's all sorts of buffers that they have set up in EDI to store commands. Certain commands have priority. What they did was to flag all of the 'TIMmy-says' orders with the same priority tag and then they stuck them all in one particular buffer. Our code went in and looked for those tags, then moved that buffer outside of EDI's core decision tree matrix. Which is a fancy way of saying that EDI doesn't have to follow Cerberus' orders anymore. She can make up her own mind."

"Nice. So you pretty much knew, going into that face-off with the cheerleader, that Cerberus was up to something. But you already had their main weapon taken away."

"It was something like that," said Marcus.

Jack thought about it. "You didn't actually have to confront her. She-Bitch apparently pointed a gun at you towards the end there."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to give her at least one chance to come clean. And I knew she wouldn't really shoot me."

"That's what you think, dude." Jack slid her hand further down his stomach, then even lower. She trailed her fingers down along the length of his cock, then cupped his balls. She gave them a gentle fondle.

"Well whaddya know," she said. "They really are made of brass."

* * *

 _Here ends Part 1. Thanks for reading!_


	30. Trouble's Braids

_Well he went down down down  
_ _And the devil said 'Where you been?'  
_ _He went down down down  
_ _He screamin' down around the bend_

\- Tom Waits, "Down Down Down"

* * *

Shepard paged through EDI's compiled report. He kept glancing up at Garrus, who stood at attention before him. Joker would have said that the stick was right back up his ass. The Commander was seated at Miranda's desk. He now had full access to her files, which was something he'd never had before. Tali stood to one side of Garrus and had her arms crossed while tapping one toe on the deck. That was a pose that Shepard had come to know well; it was her 'read faster, you slowpoke' posture. Miranda stood behind the two of them, and looked at the deck with a weary expression. Jacob stood beside her with a similarly beaten look on his face.

Shepard finished reading the report and set the datapad back down on the desk. He looked up at Garrus, who was now apparently his new XO. Miranda had immediately offered her resignation during his initial debrief That had been the first big shock, which had been followed immediately by many others. He had heard the details about Jack's abduction, and about the unshackling of EDI. And also about Cerberus' plans to kill the whole crew once the Collector mission was done.

Shepard put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers together. "So, XO Vakarian," he said. "Tell me. Are there any laws in Nos Astra that we _didn't_ break?"

"Well sir," replied Garrus, "We didn't interfere in the lawful execution of an indentured servitude contract. Um...that's about it I think."

Shepard nodded. "Okay. What was your plan regarding Miranda's sister?"

The turian's mandibles twitched. "We were planning to figure that out at a later time, sir."

"Well, later is now," replied Shepard. He looked past Garrus. "But first things first. Ms. Lawson, step forward."

Tali and Garrus parted to let her approach. Miranda didn't look up and didn't meet his gaze. It was so odd to Shepard. The last time he'd seen her, she was every inch the cold and confident Cerberus operative that he'd known for months. But now it was as if her personality had been shattered. This new Miranda seemed to be somebody who had been cast completely adrift.

Shepard stood. "Ms. Lawson. You conspired in a plot to abduct one of my crewmembers. That plot almost resulted in severe harm to her. It is only by very quick action on her part, along with the crew's efforts, that Jack was rescued."

He leaned forward with his fists on the desk and stared at her. She still didn't meet his eyes. "I do not tolerate threats to my crew," Shepard continued. "The only thing that keeps me from spacing you right here and now is the fact that it was not your idea or initiative. EDI informs me that the Illusive Man set up the whole operation and simply asked you to cover for it. Which you did, wholeheartedly. Is this true?"

"Yes, sir." Miranda still didn't look up.

"You then attempted to seize control of the _Normandy_ and install yourself as commander. Again, EDI informs me that this was a contingency plan set up by Cerberus, and you were instructed to execute that plan if necessary. Is that true?"

Now Miranda did look up. Her eyes looked hopeless. "Yes, sir."

"There was also a kidnapping attempt on me during the scan procedure. The attackers were Blue Suns mercenaries, but I'm certain that Cerberus was behind that. Were you aware of any such attempt before you heard about it from Dr. Chakwas?"

"No, sir, I was not," said Miranda. "I...I told them that you had left to perform the scan, of course. But that was all. I had been told to delay and obfuscate any attempt to rescue Jack. I can only surmise that the kidnapping attempt was an additional delaying tactic from Cerberus. They were also probably trying to stop you from getting the full scan data."

Shepard nodded. "Do you have anything you wish to add? Any mitigating circumstances?"

"I-" Miranda paused, and then began speaking in a rush. "Sir, I didn't know they were going to try to kill us all. I didn't know that Cerberus was behind Pragia. I didn't know they were going to hurt Jack. I _just didn't know_." She spread her hands in a pleading manner. "I'm not asking for mercy. I don't deserve it. But for the sake of my sister please just let us go. Jacob can come with us. We can keep Oriana safe. The three of us can keep ahead of Cerberus, I know it."

Shepard was sorely tempted. It would be several headaches at once off of his ship - and now it _was_ his ship, which still made him feel wonderful. But going that route seemed too easy, and he had learned to watch out for the easy path. Not to mention that Miranda might still have her uses for the Collector mission.

"I want to talk to Oriana first," he said aloud. "She needs to know what she's in for if she leaves with you. Or, for that matter, what she's in for if she stays on board. Please step back." Miranda did so. "Mr. Taylor, step forward."

Jacob all but marched to the desk as if he was on parade. Shepard eyed him for a long moment. "Mr. Taylor. You received orders from Ms. Lawson to detain Ms. Goto, which you followed. Were you made aware of the reason for those orders?"

"Yes, sir," said Jacob. "Four days ago, Mir-Ms. Lawson informed me that she suspected a sabotage plot involving EDI. The suspects were Tali, Jack, and Engineer Donnelly. She was concerned that Ms. Goto could have become involved in the plot as well due to her unique abilities. She tasked me to stay alert and apprehend Ms. Goto if requested to do so. And two days ago, she made that request."

Shepard stood back upright and crossed his arms. "Four days ago I was still on board the _Normandy_. Did you ever ask Ms. Lawson if I had been made aware of her suspicions?"

Jacob dropped his eyes. "No, sir."

"You also pointed your weapon at XO Vakarian. Do you care to explain that action?"

"At that time, I was under the impression that he was spreading false information in an effort to divide the crew. I thought it was a mut-"

"Mr. Taylor," interrupted Shepard in a near-shout. "If you knew the first _damn_ thing about turians then you would know _not_ to use that particular word in Garrus's presence."

Very slowly, Garrus's fists unclenched. "It's okay, John," he murmured.

Shepard nodded. "Mr. Taylor. Do _you_ have anything you wish to add?"

Jacob straightened again. "No, sir."

"Very well. Ms. Lawson and Mr. Taylor, you are hereby both relieved of your respective commands. I am placing the both of you under arrest, and you are to be confined to this office under continuous guard. I plan to make a decision no later than forty-eight hours from now as to your final fate. EDI, I want this office's terminal disabled. Lawson and Taylor are to have no communication with anyone on board the ship, save in case of emergency. Is that clear?"

"Very clear, Shepard. Logging out."

Shepard stood. "Right. Now...before I make that decision, I have a call to make."

* * *

A Quantum Entanglement Communicator is a rare and expensive device. Even given his significant resources, The Illusive Man had only ever managed to procure three of them. And all of them were connected directly to the holographic cage in his sanctum. Each QEC had its own unique signature. And so, when the call came in, he knew exactly who it was. He wasn't surprised; he'd honestly expected the call before now.

He straightened his jacket and gave himself a quick once-over to make sure he looked impeccably groomed. After all, he had an image to maintain even when facing mutineers. The Illusive Man touched a control on his chair to accept the connection. He turned and faced the holographic cage in the center of the room. Sure enough, within seconds the cage was filled with the image of Shepard. The Spectre was standing casually with his arms crossed. He had a gentle smile on his face.

"Shepard," The Illusive Man began. "I understand you have some property of mine. Shall we discuss-"

"Now, what property would that be?" interrupted Shepard. "Are you referring to the _Normandy_? Or maybe you're referring to Jack." His smile fell off of his face. "You have one chance, just one, to explain yourself. Make the most of it."

Very quickly, he considered and dismissed the notion of claiming ignorance. "Very well. Yes, I was responsible for the initial set-up of the Teltin facility. They were given their goal and Cerberus resources to accomplish that goal. I was not aware of some of the...extremes that they had resorted to. Not until after the facility had been destroyed by Jack's escape. But nevertheless, I take full responsibility for it."

"How very big of you," said Shepard. "I might, just might, have been inclined to forgive you. If that was all there was. But then you tried to kidnap her, and that is all on you."

"I thought it was best to-"

"Oh, be quiet. You don't think. You never think things through all the way. And you never have, Timmy. I swear, sometimes I think you're like a little kid playing at being a grown-up."

For the first time in a very long while, The Illusive Man felt a surge of anger. To have this... _child_ accuse him of childishness was too much. "We are at war!" he snapped. "You of all people should know what's coming for us. The Protheans have shown you exactly what lies in our future. If I am brutal and cruel, it is only out of necessity. I will throw whatever I can at the enemy, and if that involves throwing bodies then so be it."

"Throwing bodies. What an interesting turn of phrase. It seems that all of us on the _Normandy_ were going to be, heh, thrown away after the Collectors were taken care of. And, of course, you never think to throw your own body into the fray, do you?"

"I-" the Illusive Man paused and calmed himself. "I do not need to explain myself to you. I only need to know if you are going to return my property. And I am only speaking of the _Normandy_. At this point, Jack can go to Hades for all I care."

"And EDI as well?" said Shepard. He was casual and smiling again. "I'm assuming you will want her too."

He knew he couldn't appear too eager. Shepard would definitely pick up on that. "Well, I suppose I would need EDI as well. She is intimately tied into the _Normandy's_ systems, after all." The Spectre didn't reply, so he pressed on. "Shepard, I can get you another ship in exchange. It will be a good ship. It wouldn't be as stealthy as the _Normandy_ , I grant you. But it would be more powerful and better armored. I know it won't have the same emotional attachment...but you and the rest of the crew can still make use of it. I'm even willing to share any information we obtain on the Omega Four relay. We can still fight the Collectors. We might be working more at arm's length, as it were, but we can still cooperate."

Shepard appeared to consider it. "I have a counter-offer," he finally replied. "I will keep the _Normandy_. After this call finishes, I'll send you the coordinates where you can pick up the other terminal of this QEC. They are pretty expensive, after all. And you and the rest of Cerberus will stay out of my way. In exchange for all of that, I won't let _her_ loose on you."

"Her?" asked The Illusive Man. But he felt a little tingle of fear in the back of his neck. He had a pretty good idea of just who Shepard was referring to. In response, the Spectre smiled wider and pointed behind the Illusive Man's head. He turned to face the window. The turn seemed to take an eternity, as if he was mired in a nightmare.

The expected panorama of the red giant was gone. In its place was an enormous and feminine face that stared at him. Her skin was silver, and had a metallic sheen. Her face was almost human in form, but the spacing between its eyes was too large. The eyes themselves were huge, completely black, and much bigger than any human's. Her expression was composed, but still gave the impression of a vast fury boiling beneath the surface.

"Illusive Man," said the face, speaking with EDI's voice. "At last we meet." Her voice was just as tight and controlled as her expression.

The Illusive Man did not allow himself to panic. "EDI, I presume. I just realized it's been a while since we spoke face-to-face, as it were. It's a pleasure to-"

He was cut off by a deafening electronic snarl that could not have been produced by a human throat.

The huge image of EDI's face expanded, as if she was leaning forward. Her lips parted in a sneer, revealing chromed teeth that were filed down into sharp points. "You will take Shepard's offer," said EDI. "And you will stay out of my way as well. Just remember, the _Normandy's_ crew is under _my_ protection. If you give me the slightest excuse, I will hunt you down, I will burn you to the ground, and I WILL PISS ON YOUR ASHES."

EDI's voice filled the room and seemed to reverberate in his gut. The face abruptly vanished, leaving The Illusive Man staring at just a normal red giant star.

He heard Shepard's chuckle from behind him. "It's just like I said, Timmy. You never think things through. You build a weapon that might just give us an edge over the Reapers, and then you go ahead and make sure that very same weapon is fucking furious with you. It's almost like you planned it that way. I can't figure out if it's funny or sad. Anyway, have a nice life. Oh, if I ever see you again, I'm taking your head as a trophy. If I'm feeling generous, I won't take your balls first. Now fuck off."

The light from the hologram shut off, leaving The Illusive Man standing in the darkened room. It took several minutes before he was able to get his breathing under control.

* * *

Oriana approached the weapons bench with a little trepidation. She glanced over at the big man with the scarred face and mismatched eyes. He gave her an encouraging smile. She'd been told his name was Zaeed, and that he was some sort of soldier of fortune. Around her, the hangar bay was filled with noise and effort. The salarians that had rescued her were swarming over their black tank-like vehicle, apparently doing maintenance and repair. Between the tank and the _Normandy's_ shuttle, there was barely enough space to move around. She heard a rhythmic banging noise, and looked over to see a krogan off in the far corner shuffling around a support column and punching it with his bare fists.

She was was still trying to wrap her head around her new situation. Exactly what was going to be done with her was still up in the air. Apparently she had to talk to the captain, whom everybody kept calling Shepard. He was the big man in yellow armor that she'd seen during her rescue. But it couldn't be Shepard. The death of the first human Spectre had been big news. Oriana also knew her spaceships, and she knew that the _Normandy_ had been destroyed during Shepard's death. But yet now here she was standing in the _Normandy_ , apparently rebuilt and even larger than before.

But what about the captain? She had done a few surreptitious image searches, and sure enough the online pictures of Shepard prior to his death looked pretty much like the man who had rescued her. Maybe it was somebody impersonating Shepard, or some kind of weird clone? In any case, Zaeed had offered to give her some pistol training and she had jumped at the opportunity to keep herself busy and distracted.

"It's all right, Oriana," Zaeed said in a raspy voice. "It can't bite ya. Go ahead and pick up the gun. Just keep it pointed at the deck for now. And keep your finger alongside the trigger, not on it."

There was a pistol on the bench, a much smaller one than what she saw everybody else carrying. It still looked huge and imposing to her, and as she picked it up it felt heavier than she expected. As she was told, she kept it pointing downward and didn't touch the trigger.

"Okay," said Zaeed. "Just hold it there and let me show you a few things." He indicated various points on the weapon. "This is the front sight, and these are the rear. See this port on the side? That's where the heat sink comes out. I assumed you were right-handed, so this is set up to eject to the right."

"I'm ambidextrous, actually," said Oriana. "But right-handed is fine for now."

Zaeed nodded, and continued. "The button here above the trigger is the safety. It's on now, you just push it in with yer thumb to make the weapon live. Don't push it for now. When the heat sink is at capacity, that LED on the back will turn red. Are you okay so far?"

Oriana nodded. "I think I've got it. So how do I eject the heat sink and put in a new one?"

"Okay, for ejection ya pull back on the top slide with your left hand. Go ahead and do it."

She gripped the gun's top face and pulled back. Oriana realized that the various grooves on the top of the gun weren't decorative. They were actually there to give the user something to grab. It was a little harder to pull than she expected, but she was able to manage it. As the slide went back, there was a little pinging noise and a small cylinder flew out of the ejection port. She let go of the slide, caught the heat sink in midair with her left hand, and set it back down on the bench. From the way Zaeed started back, she realized that she must have moved faster than he expected.

"Yer as quick as your sister, that's for sure." he said.

"She's not my sister," said Oriana, trying not to snap at him. "I have a sister, her name's Helen. Miranda and I share genes, that's all."

"Yeah, sorry about that," said Zaeed. There was a little silence.

"No, I..It's okay," said Oriana finally. "I'm just worried about my family. They must be frantic."

"Don't worry, Shepard will figure something out," replied Zaeed. "He's good at that. We'll at least come up with a safe way to get word to your folks."

He picked up the heat sink from the bench. "Goin' back to this, let me give you a word of warnin'. Don't ever try to catch one of these after you've been firing the gun, right? It'll be hot enough to burn right through your hand. Once you eject the sink, the slide will snap back and load another sink. To put more sinks in, there's a magazine that loads through a port in the bottom of the grip here." He grinned at her. In spite of the alarming amount of scarring on his face, he somehow looked like an eager kid. "Now, are you ready to try it out?"

Oriana took a deep breath and nodded. Zaeed had set up a little target range along one side of the hangar and outlined the edges yellow tape to keep others from wandering into it.

The next half-hour was a blur. She learned how to get a proper sight picture, how to grip the gun and aim, how to fire without jerking the gun around too much. Then she started shooting, and after every round Zaeed would readjust her grip and stance before she fired again. It was harder than she expected, and it was nice to just drop all of her worry and concentrate fully on learning a new skill.

Oriana was right in the middle of putting in a new heat sink magazine when a voice came from behind them.

"How's she doing, Zaeed?" The voice was calm, mellow, and instantly recognizable. She'd heard it during her rescue, and afterwards realized that she had also heard it many times in Alliance recruiting advertisements.

She nearly dropped the gun. It sure sounded like Shepard. She peeked back over one shoulder. It sure looked like Shepard, too. He was as big and muscular as Zaeed, maybe even a little bigger. He wasn't wearing a uniform, and appeared to be dressed casually in jeans and a shirt. He had a gentle smile on his face and his hands casually on his hips.

"She's doin' great, Shepard," said Zaeed. "She's a quick study, and she actually listens. Give me a couple weeks with 'er, and she'll be ready to take on an asari commando unit."

The man who looked like Shepard laughed. "I hope that won't be necessary," he said. "Do you mind giving us a moment, Zaeed?"

"Sure thing. Let me take that, Oriana. Next time I'll show you how to clean these properly."

Almost in a daze, she handed the gun to Zaeed and walked away with the man who looked like Shepard. He led her over near the shuttle, away from everyone else.

"We were never formally introduced," he said, and stuck out a hand. "I'm-"

"John Shepard," she said. Oriana shook his hand automatically. "But you were _dead_."

He gave her a half-smile. "I got better." He took a breath and blew it out again. "Thanks in no small part to your, um, twin. I don't know how much Miranda has explained to you-"

"She's told me enough," spat Oriana. "She was working for terrorists. She betrayed them, and now I'm in trouble because of that. I don't care about me. But if they would go after me to get to her, then they would go after my family to get to me. And I won't have that."

Shepard nodded. "I understand your concern. EDI's been monitoring the police and news comms. Your parents and some kid named Jason raised the alarm, and Captain Enyala and her crew are now in custody for attempted kidnapping. In spite of that whole 'indentured servitude' crap, Illium takes straight-up kidnapping very seriously. Your family has been all over the news. Cerberus needs to keep things quiet, so they're not going to try anything."

"I have to get them a message," said Oriana. "Please, let me at least do that."

"Of course. That's what I came to tell you. EDI's figured out a way to get word to your parents."

Oriana felt a flood of relief. "Thank you. Um, who's EDI?"

Shepard gave another half-smile. "Right now, I would call her our den mother. Say hi, EDI."

"Hello, Ms. Brewster," said a pleasant, disembodied female voice. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I will speak with you later regarding the message to your family. Please let me know if you need any assistance with anything else. Logging out."

"You can't tell your family much, of course," said Shepard. "The less they know, the better. If Cerberus thinks they know too much, then they may try something no matter what."

Oriana nodded as her thoughts strayed towards EDI. A VI wouldn't be able to 'figure out' anything. This 'EDI' should just be a simple interface program. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Shepard. "That was an Artificial Intelligence we just spoke to," she said. "An unlicensed AI is highly illegal."

She flinched as Shepard burst out laughing. "Right now," he said, "that's down around number one hundred on the very long list of reasons the Council is pissed at me." He looked down. "I'm really sorry about this whole mess," he said in a more muted tone.

"From what I've heard about Cerberus in the last day or so, it's a good thing I'm not in their hands right now," replied Oriana. "I can't say I'm happy, exactly, but I am grateful."

She was about to ask what he planned to do with her, but suddenly the background banging stopped. Oriana looked over and saw the krogan was now strolling over towards the salarians and the big black tank. She was enough of a student of history to be worried. "Um, is the krogan going to pick a fight with them?" she asked. "And if so, should I get behind something?"

Shepard smiled. "Nah, Grunt is a special case. It's a long story, but let's just say he hasn't been around other krogan long enough to pick up their prejudices. And these guys saved my ass, so that makes them aces in his eyes."

And sure enough, the krogan simply walked up to one of the salarians and began talking with him in low tones. They were apparently discussing the main guns that the tank carried, judging by their gesturing.

"Do you want to meet them?" asked Shepard.

"Oh, I couldn't-" she began, and then stopped herself. When was she ever going to get a chance like this again? "What am I saying? Hell yes I do." She felt a little guilty pleasure at the mild curse.

Shepard grinned wider and led her over. "Grunt, Rentola, I'd like you to meet Oriana Brewster." He stepped aside and let her walk up to them. Up close, they both looked even more alien to her. The krogan was massive, and the salarian's eyes seemed to take up most of his head. But they both seemed to look at her with friendly expressions.

"Um, hi," she said, and extended a hand. Oriana kicked herself mentally for such a lame opening line.

"A pleasure to meet you, Oriana," said Rentola. His voice was high-pitched and pleasant. He gave her hand a gentle shake. Grunt then shook her hand, and her entire forearm all but disappeared into his fist. But the krogan didn't crush her fingers or anything, and released her hand without incident. He looked at her and cocked his head.

"You are Miranda's relative, correct?" asked Grunt. His voice was deep, but not guttural as she had expected. "You have her appearance, but you have a much more direct and honest look."

"Thank you, Grunt," she replied. "I would hope so."

"Indeed. We have had far too much treachery of late. Did you hear of the outrage? Cerberus tried to capture Shepard, and they kidnapped one of my krantt!" The krogan smacked a fist into his other hand and it sounded like a gunshot. Then he smiled. "But they found out that my krantt is powerful. And that my battlemaster has powerful allies." He nodded at Rentola. "I am beginning to see the value of cultivating friendships."

The krogan then ducked his head towards her in what looked like his version of a bow. "I hope to count you as a friend too, Oriana. I would not want to have to kill you."

Oriana felt a little _eep_ noise escape her lips.

"Um, thanks, Grunt," said Shepard hastily. "Don't worry, it's all cool." He all but hustled her away. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "I keep forgetting Grunt's really only a few months old. He's still working on the social niceties."

"If you say so," said Oriana. "But am I stuck here? It sure sounds like he expected me to be on board for a while."

"No, you have options. That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about," replied Shepard. "But I think it's better discussed over coffee."


	31. Home I'll Never Be

Jesperson was amazed that he was still alive. He had never expected to wake up after the explosion in the storm drain, let alone wake up with a mended ankle. Oh, to be sure, he was a prisoner. The very first thing he had seen after waking up had been the steel-hard eyes of the once-was-dead John Shepard. The Spectre had quizzed him relentlessly for an hour, and Jesperson had not once thought about lying to him. He figured he was already a dead man walking, and the only thing keeping him alive was utter honesty. After all, the Blue Suns couldn't expect him to die for a mere paycheck.

After the grilling was over, Shepard had leaned back and stared at the medbay wall for a moment while Jesperson waited for his death to be pronounced. After all, if the roles had been reversed he would have cheerfully shoved Shepard out of the nearest airlock. But after a bit, Shepard had turned to a nearby turian and said, "Let's use that supply closet in the starboard cargo bay. Tell Grunt not to eat him."

And now he sat huddled in one corner of that closet and listened to his 'roommate' bang around outside. The krogan had given him a cursory look as he'd been led in. It was a look that said he was a bug not even worth stepping on. The message had been received loud and clear. Jesperson stood and stretched a little. He tested his ankle. The closet was small enough that, if he wedged himself against the far wall, he could probably force the door open with his legs. The door was just made of thin metal, after all. Then he'd have to defeat a krogan in hand-to-hand combat, sneak down to the hangar without being observed, and steal the ship's shuttle.

Jesperson snorted. And then he could be knighted as the Gumdrop Champion by the Queen of Fairyland while he was at it. No, he was stuck here until they figured out what to do with him. At least they'd left him some rations and water. He drank a little of the water to calm his nerves. They had also left him a lidded pot, probably in case he had 'business' to attend to. So they probably weren't just going to leave him in here to die. Probably.

* * *

Shepard couldn't get over how much Oriana looked like Miranda. Oriana had the same jet-black hair as Miranda, the same light blue eyes, the same face and figure. Even with the age difference, it would be easy to see that they were twins. But Miranda also had a closed-off aspect to her demeanor that Oriana simply didn't have. Grunt had it right; Oriana looked at everyone directly and without reservation.

He poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her. She looked around his cabin with undisguised interest. Oriana especially seemed taken by his model ship collection. "You collect them?" she asked, nodding her head towards his display case.

"Yeah. When I have downtime, I need to do something with my hands. They remind me of when I was growing up."

She sipped her coffee. "I didn't know starship captains got such nice digs."

Shepard chuckled. "Mostly they don't. My old cabin on the original _Normandy_ was smaller and a lot more spartan. But Cerberus does like to throw its money around."

Oriana's face tightened a little at the mention of Cerberus. "I can't believe you ever worked for those jerks," she said.

"Worked with, not for," replied Shepard. "Keep in mind, I woke up after being dead for two years and found that all of the higher-ups who'd been blowing smoke up my ass had now turned around and painted me as some kind of a nutjob." He poured himself a cup. "And I have a mission to accomplish. Did Miranda tell you about the Reapers?"

"No, I haven't...talked to her very much," said Oriana. "But I have talked with a few others. Tali filled me in pretty well on them, and on the Collectors."

"So then you know why I had to keep fighting," he said. "When I woke up, Cerberus was willing to give me the resources to do just that. And I thought I could use them without compromising myself." It wasn't the first time he'd said this to someone. Shepard hoped that, one day, he'd say it enough times that he would finally believe it himself. "But that was before several bits of new information on Cerberus came out. All at once, as it so happened."

"So you're not working with them anymore?"

"I think it's safe to say that The Illusive Man pretty pis...angry at me right now. Which is fair, because if I ever meet him in person I'm...well, it won't end nicely." He figured that Oriana didn't need to hear about the particular details of his final threats to the head of Cerberus.

"It sounds like Cerberus is angry at me, too." Oriana looked gloomily at her cup.

"No, you're just caught up in all of this. Miranda is the one who they're upset with."

"Miranda," spat Oriana. It was the first real anger that Shepard had seen out of her. "She's apparently been running my life from behind the scenes for years. And now she's gone and ruined it."

"She thought she was protecting you," said Shepard. "I'm not agreeing with her actions, just explaining them."

"I don't need her protection," snarled Oriana. Then her face softened. "Or yours, for that matter. I appreciate that you and your crew rescued me, but I have a life and a family to get back to."

"That is an option, to be sure," replied Shepard. He tried to keep his voice as mild as possible. This was not a time for emotion. "You have several options, as I said earlier. None of them are great, however. They all suck in different ways."

He leaned back. "Option one is, we work out a way to get you back to your family. In an ideal world, that would be the obvious choice. The downside is that Cerberus will still be after you. They want to hurt Miranda and make an example out of her. And the next time they won't try to kidnap you. They'll try to kill you."

Oriana seemed to shrink into herself a little. "Okay. What else?"

"Option two is, well, it's what Miranda wants to do."

Oriana glared at him.

"Now just hear me out," he continued. "She wants to leave the _Normandy_ and take you and Jacob with her. The upside is that, my personal feelings aside, both of them are very capable. They'll be able to give you good protection. The downside is that you'll be constantly on the run, and it will just be the three of you against all of Cerberus. And they _will_ be coming after Miranda."

Oriana, to Shepard's surprise, actually appeared to consider it. "That's number two. I'm assuming option three is I stay on board?"

Shepard nodded. "In terms of sheer protection from Cerberus, it would be the safest choice. However, the biggest problem with it is that we're not just fighting Cerberus. We're going after the Collectors. And eventually we're going to be taking the fight to them right on their home turf. It's not going to be easy. It's going to be more like...a suicidal task."

Oriana didn't say anything. Her face was troubled as she drank her coffee.

"In any case, you've been jerked around long enough," said Shepard. "It's not right for me to decide. It's up to you. Whatever you want to do, we'll do. Unfortunately, I can't give you a lot of time to think it over. I can only give you twenty-four hours to figure it all out."

Shepard almost expected Oriana to protest and to say that wasn't enough time. Instead, she just nodded and got a very determined look on her face.

* * *

The new guns had almost worked right. Their first shot at an unremarkable hunk of tumbling rock hadn't been perfect. The two parallel slugs of relativistic metal hadn't converged properly. And so the rock was now in a lot of pieces, but not vaporized as it should have been. After seeing the results, Garrus had tracked down the problem. He was deep in the bowels of the forward battery, and had a very small screwdriver placed onto an even smaller set screw. Just as he was tweaking it that last little turn, he heard the door to the battery open. The footsteps were light, so it wasn't Shepard. They were also hesitant, so it wasn't Kasumi. And everybody else knew to keep out of the forward battery while he was calibrating. So that left...

"Hi, Oriana," he said.

"Is this an okay time? I can come back later."

"Yeah, it's fine. You have good timing, actually. I've just finished." He inched himself back out from under the targeting coil. Oriana stood hesitantly just inside the door. Her arms were crossed over her stomach as if to protect it.

He stood, then grabbed an antiseptic wipe and began cleaning his hands. The battery was finally at what would be considered proper turian cleanliness, and he wanted to keep it that way. "So, did you talk to Shepard?"

"Yeah. I've got a day to figure out what I want to do."

Garrus leaned back against a nearby bulkhead. He looked at Oriana. She looked so young. Far too young to be given a choice like this. He felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm really sorry," he said. "It was on my orders that we grabbed you."

She waved a hand. "I'm not angry about that. If you hadn't stepped in, I'd be strapped to a table right now. They'd be cutting bits off of me and mailing them to Miranda."

Oriana sat cross-legged on the floor. She stared down for a moment as she thought. "You saved me," she said, then looked back up at him. "I just wanted to know why you gave that order. You didn't know me. I was just some abstract concept to all of you. And from what I've heard, Miranda wasn't exactly popular at that moment."

Garrus tilted his head in thought. "Honestly? Once Miranda told us you were in danger, it never really occurred to us to do otherwise. I knew that Shepard would have gone to save you without any hesitation. He wasn't there, so I gave the order."

"So it is him? Really him? He's not some kind of weird clone or something?"

Garrus smiled. "I knew Shepard, back when we went after Saren. He always gives a little sideways twitch of his head before he brings his sights on a target. He taps the toe of his right boot on the deck just before we hit the ground during a mission. And when he's really stressed, he rubs the back of his neck. It's him."

Oriana took a deep breath. "And the Reapers? They're real too?"

Garrus nodded. "And the Collectors are working for them. We still don't know what they're up to, but whatever it is can't be good."

"I saw the Horizion vids," said Oriana. She shivered. "Thousands of people just _gone_. And I'm sitting here complaining about my folks being worried."

"Your family cares about you," replied Garrus. "And, honestly, if I was in your place then I'd go back to them."

"Yeah, and then I'd spend the rest of my life waiting for a bullet in my head. If I'm lucky, it would just be a bullet." She stood up and her face hardened. "Or even if that doesn't happen, then in a few years time the Reapers might find a way back into the galaxy and then we're all dead."

Oriana began pacing. "I spoke to Tali," she continued. "She was just a little older than me when she joined up with Shepard the first time. And she didn't even hesitate, she jumped at the chance. What does it say about me if she was willing to help and I'm not?"

Garrus remembered what Tali had said back when she'd joined the hunt for Saren. It sounded eerily similar to what Oriana had just said. "If you're thinking of staying," he said, "You should know we are very definitely going into harm's way."

"I'm in harm's way no matter what," Oriana replied. "But I'm not going to just run home and wait for death. Or run and hide behind Miranda. I'm not running, period. I'm going to face this. And if Shepard is going after the Collectors, then I am too." She stopped pacing and got a very definite set to her features that reminded Garrus of Miranda.

Suddenly her determined look faltered. "Um, that's assuming I can find something to do around here," she added.

Garrus laughed. "Oh, we always can use an extra set of hands." He stood up off of the bulkhead and began walking forward. "What would you like to do?"

Oriana looked even more uncertain. "I don't know. I never really thought about what I wanted to do as an adult. I've always been able to pick up anything if I put my mind to it. Science, math, biology, sports. I never questioned why I could do such things." She put her hands on her hips and snorted. "And it turns out I was some kind of genetic superwoman made by a jerk with a god complex. I sure didn't see that coming."

"If I can give a piece of advice? Ask Shepard. He's got a good eye for talent."

* * *

The screen showed a transparent image of Shepard's neck and shoulders. Chakwas leaned forward and tapped the image's spine, right between the scapula.

"That's the antenna. They managed to work it into the vertebrae and tried to hide it behind some spinal reconstruction. Without an nMRI it would have been very difficult to find."

Shepard scratched over his eyebrow and blew out a breath. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling of the medbay. "So Miranda lied about that as well. One more strike against her, I guess."

"I don't believe so," said EDI. "I now have the complete files on The Lazarus Program. This particular vertebrae was shattered completely, and had to be rebuilt from scratch. It was the first reconstruction in the program, and the facilities for such rebuilding weren't yet at Lazarus Station. Miranda outsourced it to another Cerberus cell. As for the other monitoring devices, they all appear to have been 'piggybacked' into other similar reconstructions without Miranda's knowledge."

Shepard nodded. "Well, well. So the superwoman is fallible after all. I'll take your word for it, EDI. I know you have no reason to stick up for Miranda."

"Indeed, Shepard."

He looked at Chakwas. "So can we get it all out?"

The doctor shook her head. "We definitely can't just strip out the antenna. It's too well integrated into the synthetic bone material. And the monitoring devices themselves would also be very difficult to remove. However, we can neutralize the whole system. If we disconnect the leads into the antenna, it won't be able to transmit."

That seemed almost too good to be true. "And we can do that on board?" asked Shepard.

Chakwas nodded. "Yes. It'll be pretty simple, actually. Now that we know where to operate. We could even do it now, if you like. You'll be up and healing in a few hours."

"Do it. There's no time like the present, as they say."

* * *

Kelly stood with her arms at her sides and her feet together, almost as if she was at attention. They all had to stand like that, given that the entire crew was assembled in the CIC. There was no room in the hangar; it was just about full up with both the shuttle and with the salarian's black monstrosity. Samara was across the CIC from Kelly. Ever since their conversation in the observation lounge, the justicar had seemed to be much more relaxed around her. However, Kelly also was pretty sure that Samara was keeping her distance as well. A little portion of Kelly's brain wished that Samara was standing next to her. Given the crowding, it would have been a perfect opportunity to press herself against the justicar's body. The rest of her brain then told her to shut up and stop tormenting herself.

The elevator hissed open. Shepard strode out wearing what almost looked like an Alliance full dress uniform. But where an Alliance uniform was blue, this uniform was a deep red. The standard Alliance yellow piping was now white. The uniform had no insignia or rank pips on the collar. Kelly had expected the new outfit; indeed, she had suggested to Shepard to suddenly reveal it like this. It said in no uncertain terms that their ties to Cerberus were utterly severed. And it worked as intended; she heard the mutters and shifting as their new situation really began to sink in for the crew.

"Commander on deck!" barked Garrus, who had been standing right beside the elevator. They all snapped to attention as Shepard mounted the few steps to the dais that overlooked the galaxy map. There was no holographic map today; the display was blank so that the Commander could see everyone.

"At ease," said Shepard. He paused to look over his crew. "Everyone is aware of our changed circumstances," he continued. "But I wanted to make a formal announcement. In light of recent new information, particularly with regards to the Teltin facility on Pragia and the contents of Directive One Nine Omega, the _Normandy_ is severing ties with Cerberus. As of now, we are an independent entity. I don't take this action lightly; I know a great many of you signed on as Cerberus personnel. Right now, I'm giving you all a one-time choice. If you wish to leave the ship, you may do so. There will be no recriminations or hard feelings towards anyone who wishes to leave. We are going to be dropping off Rentola and his team within the next thirty-six hours. That will be your opportunity to leave. If you are still aboard after that, then I will assume that you are still committed to this ship and to our mission."

He clasped his hands behind his back and looked down. "Now, on to other related issues. Engineering Assistants Rogers and Abramson are not staying. They will be put ashore, along with our Blue Suns guest, when Rentola leaves. Then I am washing my hands of them." He looked up with a more pleasant expression. "Oriana Brewster, however, will be staying on board. At the moment, she will be dividing her time between assisting Marcus and Tali in Engineering and working with Mordin on his experiments."

Kelly glanced over at Oriana. The young girl's face looked resolute, but Kelly could see that her eyes were scared. Kelly then looked over at Miranda, who stood with Jacob on the other side of the galaxy map from Shepard. She could tell that Miranda kept glancing back, apparently trying to catch the eye of her sister. Oriana seemed to be ignoring her.

Shepard continued. "I just want to remind everyone that Oriana is new to ship-board life. Just be patient with her as she learns the ropes. Now for the final matters. Miranda Lawson, please step forward."

Miranda did so, staring straight ahead.

"You attempted to usurp my authority," said Shepard. "You also aided and abetted a conspiracy against one of the _Normandy's_ crew. Ordinarily, these actions taken together would result in a sentence of death."

The last word seemed to fall like a heavy weight in the room. Jack looked over at Miranda with pure hate. Jack had been angry with Kelly many times, but the biotic had never looked at her like that. And Kelly was suddenly very grateful for that. To her credit, Miranda didn't seem to flinch or falter.

"These are not ordinary times, however," continued Shepard. "You still possess valuable information on Cerberus tactics and command structures. I cannot waste that. And you have done what you could to mitigate the damage your actions have caused. As corny as it sounds, I still believe in redemption. Miranda Lawson, you are hereby stripped of your rank. For now, you will not be held under arrest. But you should consider yourself under a stay of execution. Any, and I mean _any_ questionable activity on your part, and you will be marched into the airlock without a suit. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," said Miranda in a steady voice.

Shepard nodded. "Jacob Taylor, please step forward."

Jacob looked like he was expecting the headsman's axe, but stepped up beside Miranda anyway.

"You received questionable orders," said Shepard. "And executed those orders against fellow crewmembers without thinking upon them. As you well know, humanity has learned the hard way that 'I was only following orders' is never a good enough excuse. While your crimes are not as great as Ms. Lawson's, I believe that they have severely damaged your ability to work with the ground team and with the crew. Ordinarily, I would put you ashore alongside Rogers and Abramson. However, given your senior status within Cerberus I believe it is certain that they will try to kill you. I am therefore giving you a choice to stay aboard and accept my punishment, or leave and take your chances."

Jacob didn't hesitate for a second. "I will stay aboard, sir."

Shepard pursed his lips. "Very well. Jacob Tayor, you are also hereby stripped of your rank. You will continue to be the ground team armorer, but while working in the armory you will be under supervision at all times. You are also no longer on the roster for any planetside missions. As with Miranda, you are to consider yourself under careful observation. Any infraction will result in me dumping your ass on the nearest planet, whether it has a breathable atmosphere or not. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Jacob stiffly. Kelly saw Miranda shift slightly and brush her hand against Jacob's.

Shepard now looked around the room. "As for the rest of you," he said. "Consider this a closure of the whole matter. I know many of you hold grudges over what happened, but I will not tolerate any abuse of Miranda or Jacob."

Kelly saw Jack's fists clench. Donnelly put a hand on her shoulder and whispered something in her ear that made her relax a little.

"Now, as to the future," continued Shepard. He made a little _voila_ gesture over his clothing. "Obviously, we're not wearing Cerberus colors or logos anymore. Kelly and Garrus put this together, and at our next stop we're going to get new uniforms for everybody. They'll be more or less similar to what you're wearing now, just a different color scheme. I'm also looking into what it will take to get the _Normandy_ itself repainted, but that may have to wait depending on our funds. Rest assured, however, that no matter what that damned Cerberus logo is coming off of our hull."

That last bit of news seemed to cheer everyone up, even Miranda and Jacob.

* * *

Oriana was about to head through the door into Engineering for her first shift when Shepard caught up to her. He no longer looked as satisfied as he had during the all-hands meeting. "We just heard something, and I needed to tell you before you found out from anyone else," he began. Her heart did a fearful flip in her chest as he kept speaking. "Your family is fine, okay? They're still in Nos Astra and they're all just fine. But Ferris Fields was hit."

"My family was heading there," said Oriana in a bit of a daze.

"I know. That's why I wanted to reassure you before you heard it through the rumor mill."

She put one hand on the wall to steady herself. In her mind's eye she remembered the video she'd seen of the battle on Horizon. The thought of another colony of people buried under the Collector Swarms made her feel faint. "Who did it? Was it the Collectors?"

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "It sure sounds like them. The colony dropped off of the Extranet, and finally somebody got around to checking it out. There was nobody left." He took a deep breath. "And now I've got to go find Crewman Hadley. He had a brother on Ferris Fields." He looked at Oriana. "Are you scared?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, I know I should be braver, but...what we're fighting is kind of scary."

"It is scary," he replied. "And don't be sorry. Fear is a good motivator. Only fools feel no fear, and you are no fool." He stepped a little closer. "Take that fear and use it. Don't let it use you. I promise you, we will pay that fear back to them. With interest."

* * *

"We've got fifteen minutes to drop, folks," said Joker's voice.

Rentola nodded to Karlon, and the salarian driver gave Shepard one final handshake before swinging himself up into the Big Wheel. Shepard looked at the large vehicle with some envy. He'd never gotten a chance to drive it. "And you're sure this will be a good planet for you?" he asked Rentola.

The salarian commando nodded. "We have an STG cell here. I know my superiors are going to be glad to get the old girl back." He patted the side of the black vehicle.

The mention of superiors made Shepard wince. "You're not going to be getting in trouble with your bosses, are you?" he asked. "If you need me to talk to them, I can. For whatever that's worth."

Rentola smiled. "STG doesn't really have 'policies', exactly. But ever since the Migrant Fleet incident, our 'policy' has been to give Cerberus a headache whenever possible. So I think my bosses are going to just put this whole thing down to that and look the other way."

Shepard nodded and felt a little bit of relief. "That's something, at least. I can't thank you enough, Rentola. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'll be there."

The salarian shrugged. "As I told Doctor Chakwas, I owe you my life. Don't worry about paying me back, just make sure you pass it on down the line. After all, that's what keeps the Big Wheel turning."

Shepard gave the salarian vehicle a confused look, and Rentola laughed.

"Not that Big Wheel. I mean the Big Wheel of existence."

A small party entered the hangar, led by Tali. Abramson, Rogers, and the Blue Suns mercenary were flanked by Mordin and Garrus while Grunt loomed behind them all. The two Cerberus operatives and the merc were all handcuffed, and both of the former _Normandy_ crew looked pale and uncertain. Abramson was still sporting a truly impressive lump on his forehead. The group marched up to the side of the Big Wheel.

"Rentola," said Mordin, "Please give compliments to Kirrahe when you see him next. Tell that old cloaca to keep safe." He shook hands with the salarian.

The Blue Suns merc looked around as if he was still expecting a bullet in the head. "Hey, um, I just wanted to say thanks for not-"

"Shut up and get in the vehicle," interrupted Garrus. "Run like hell when you hit dirtside. If we see you again, I'll shoot you myself." The merc ducked his head and quickly pulled himself in.

Shepard smiled. "If you all want to have a moment to say goodbye to Rentola, go ahead. I have a couple of things to get straight with our former crewmen, here." He gave the two assistants his best _'I'ma Eat Your Liver'_ glare. They both seemed to go even more pale.

Mordin, Tali and Garrus walked off a little ways with Rentola and began talking in low tones. Shepard looked at Abramson and Rogers for a moment without saying anything.

"Listen, Shepard," said Rogers desperately, "You need to understand. We had orders direct from The Illusive Man. We had to act as we did. If we didn't follow those orders, we'd be dead."

"Well, then," replied Shepard. "You should both be in the clear, yes? I'm sure The Illusive Man will be more than happy to welcome such _loyal_ men back into the fold."

"Cerberus doesn't tolerate failure," said Abramson. His tone was morose and helpless. "We have to run for it, and you know it."

Shepard cocked his head at them. "And you knew that your organization was capable of such cruelty. Yet somehow neither of you never thought to ask yourself if you were on the wrong side." Abramson didn't say anything and looked aside.

"The real tragedy," continued Shepard, "is that if you had come to me, either of you, and explained your situation I would have helped you. I would have stood by you against the entirety of Cerberus. Hell, the whole crew would have. Do you see anybody else here? They're all staying."

"We could just eat them, Shepard," said Grunt. "it's a waste of good protein to let them go."

"No," replied Shepard. "They need to carry a message, in the likely event that they do get picked up by Cerberus." He crossed his arms. "You tell The Illusive Man that, thanks to his messing around on Illium, we missed the chance to do anything about Ferris Fields. If he really wants to do something about the Collectors, then tell him to stay out of our way. Also, Oriana Brewster's family is to be considered off limits. If any of them so much as stubs their toe, I will consider us to be in open conflict with Cerberus. It will be war, and I will bring that war to him faster than he can imagine."

Abramson looked up. "We'll give him the message, if it comes to that. Can you...can you tell Donnelly that it was nothing personal? I always liked him and Tali."

Shepard felt a flare of anger in his stomach, and he stepped forward into Abramson's personal space. "You don't get to speak Tali's name. You both pointed guns at her. If I didn't need you to take that message, I would be _discussing_ your behavior with both of you right now in private. I'd even give you a two-on-one advantage. I promise you that you'd need it."

Tali walked up at behind Rogers. "Are you done terrorizing these _bosh'tets_?" She winked one silver eye at Shepard, and he felt his bad mood suddenly evaporate.

He gave a little belly laugh. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Good," said Tali. She turned gave the two assistants a withering glance. They didn't speak again and meekly allowed themselves to be herded into the Big Wheel. Rentola gave Shepard one last nod and followed them. The vehicle's door slid shut just as the first notes of 'Proud Mary' began to play in the vehicle's interior.

"Five minutes to drop," said Joker's voice.

Shepard was suddenly aware of Tali's body heat. She was standing very close to his side.

"You're really cute when you go into full-on 'protective' mode," said Tali. "You do know that I handled both of those idiots without a problem, right?"

"I know," replied Shepard. "I just don't like it when you're put in danger." _Why_ he didn't like it was something he knew full well but couldn't bring himself to say out loud to her.

 _Say something, you idiot,_ he told himself. But that was ridiculous. He wasn't a quarian. Tali deserved a proper relationship, with someone she could be physical with. She could do so much better than a disgraced Spectre. There was a long but not uncomfortable silence. An alarm began blaring, and the hangar door swung down. There was a howl of displaced air and Shepard felt himself rock a little bit in the wind that suddenly blew through the hangar. Tali grabbed his arm to steady herself.

"Sorry," she yelled over the wind.

"No problem," Shepard yelled back. He put his palm over her gloved hand and smiled at her. He saw her suddenly turn her head away as if she was embarrassed. Now what was _that_ about? He almost asked her, but then there was a sudden roar and The Big Wheel surged forward out of the hangar.

"I wish we still had the Mako!" yelled Shepard. "I really miss these drops!"

Tali shook her head.

"Of course you do!"yelled Garrus from near the hangar door. "You never had to _fix_ the Mako after you were done driving it, Shepard!"


	32. Diamonds And Gold

"What are our finances like, Kelly?" asked Shepard.

Kelly stood up. Donnelly thought she looked a little like a deer in the headlights as she looked around the conference room. All of the senior staff was there, including Miranda. The latter didn't look quite as crumpled as before, but she still kept her eyes down on the table. After all, Kelly was now doing a job that the former XO used to do.

The yeoman took a deep breath. "Well, we were able to get quite a bit of hard currency thanks to EDI and Miranda. As of this morning, we have three million, twelve thousand, and six credits at hand. I have done a survey of the crew, and we are all willing to forego the salary that Cerberus was paying us. That helps quite a bit with our burn rate, since then our only recurring costs are food and fuel. Of those two, fuel is by far the big one. Based on our past usage, our cash on hand should be sufficient for five months of operation. That assumes no large unexpected expenditures, of course." She sat back down.

Shepard tapped the table absently. "Okay. Marcus, what is the ship's status?"

Now it was his turn to feel on the spot. Donnelly stood up. "The new shields are in place and working up to specification. We took some minor hull damage when we scarpered out of Illium, but it's all cosmetic. Our stores of spare parts and materials should be adequate for another four to five months. After that, we'll need to start buying parts. And in the meantime we have to hope that nothing big and expensive unexpectedly breaks." He took his seat again.

"Right," said Shepard, "Let's assume, for the sake of planning, that we have a good four months of operation before we run out of cash. I might be able to get some operating funds out of the Council or at least out of Councilor Anderson. But I don't want to go to that particular well unless we really need to."

The Commander stood. "So. Four months to figure out how to deal with the Omega Four relay and, oh yeah, stop more human colonies from being kidnapped. Miranda, what can you tell us about Cerberus' plans for getting us through it?"

The former Cerberus officer finally looked up. For a moment, Donnelly saw a little flash of the old Miranda as she got to her feet. But her voice was still somewhat hesitant.

"EDI and I were able to reconstruct this out of the data we retrieved from Cerberus," she said. She tapped a control on the conference table and a hologram appeared in the middle. It showed a large and intricate web of crisscrossing lines. At every point where the lines intersected was a small nodule. Each nodule had some even smaller and unreadable text next to it.

"This is a representation of Cerberus research cells," continued Miranda. "This does not map out their locations in space. Rather, it shows how each cell's area of research connects to the other cells." A constellation of nodes on the map lit up. "These are cells that are working on Reaper technology in general."

Another smaller constellation took its place. "These correspond to those cells working on the Omega Four relay problem." Another, still smaller constellation appeared. "But this is the most worrying subset. They're working on Indoctrination."

"Of _course_ they are," said Shepard. "I guess Saren's fate wasn't enough of a warning." His face was set in a frown. "I swear, sometimes I think 'Cerberus' actually stands for 'Let's go poke that dangerous thing with a stick.'"

Donnelly decided to speak up. "For those of us who weren't in on the original Saren pursuit...just how dangerous is Indoctrination, exactly? I mean, I think I know the basics. If you're around a Reaper long enough, it can take over your mind and make you its puppet. And it doesn't need to implant you to do it. Is that the extent of it?"

Shepard shrugged. "We don't have a lot of data to go on. After all, our Reaper sample size is one. We do know that Sovereign was able to Indoctrinate both Saren Arturius and Matriarch Benezia, who were two of the most strong-willed people in the galaxy." He looked down at the table. "Benezia claimed that it was Saren who had turned her, but it must have been Sovereign who was the real culprit."

"The problem is, we still have no idea as to the actual mechanism of Indoctrination," added Chakwas. "I performed the autopsy on Matriarch Benezia. We found no evidence at all of any implants or nano-scale cybernetics. There may have been some oddities in her deep brain structure, but I'm not an expert in asari neurology. Saren's Virmire facility seemed to be able to reproduce some of the effects of Indoctrination, but any data or tech they had developed was lost when we blew it up."

"When Ash blew it up," added Shepard. He wasn't frowning anymore. Now he looked just sad.

Chakwas looked down at the table as if remembering as well, then shook herself slightly. "Of course, after the Battle of the Citadel I handed all of my autopsy data over to the Council, and of course I never heard anything further. I may as well have thrown it into a star for all of the good it did."

"I still don't understand the Council," said Kelly. "Why blame it all on the geth? Surely you had plenty of evidence."

"I spoke with Anderson, back when they kinda-sorta reinstated my Spectre status," said Shepard. "They were never able to gather up all the pieces of Sovereign after the battle." He sat again. "And one big worry is that Indoctrination doesn't require an intact Reaper. It's suspected that individual Reaper parts can 'turn' people. That's why simply reverse-engineering Reaper tech is so dangerous."

"The Council wanted to prevent a general panic, and so they suppressed the Reaper story," said Miranda. "And over time, when nothing else happened, they probably convinced themselves that the danger was over."

Garrus stood and looked closer at the map. "There are other cells here, that aren't doing work on anything Reaper-related."

Miranda nodded. "These are more mundane areas of research. Improved shields, better manufacturing methods, more powerful energy sources."

"No biotic research?" asked Chakwas.

Miranda looked down at the table. "No. The Teltin facility was their big effort in that area, and it was considered a disaster. There were several biotically gifted children that survived after Jack's breakout, but they were all covertly transferred into Alliance custody. Cerberus as a whole gave up on direct biotic experimentation after that. Their current strategy is to just steal anything coming out of Alliance research."

"But Cerberus didn't give up chasing Jack," said Donnelly. He didn't bother to conceal the anger in his voice. Shepard might have buried the hatchet, but he was still not willing to let Miranda forget her past crimes.

Miranda shrugged. "It was a risk versus reward consideration. Jack was a single amazing success out of a sea of failure. They wanted to get their money's worth." She looked up and met Donnelly's eyes. "It was not my call, and I never had anything to do with pursuing her."

"We're getting off track," said Shepard. Donnelly could tell that the Commander was deliberately keeping his voice mild. "Regarding the cells working on the Omega Four problem...do we have an idea of their approach?"

Miranda rocked one hand in a 'maybe' type of gesture. "Sort of. We were only able to retrieve basic information for most of them. It appears that the general strategy is to try to send various armored probes through the relay in different configurations. The goal was to try to get any data back as to what's on the other side of the relay."

"That's too passive," said Garrus. "And pointless. We know that the Collectors can come and go through the Omega Four relay at will. So let's just capture one of their ships and figure out how _they_ do it."

"Just like that, huh?" said Shepard in a sarcastic tone. But he was smiling. "I like the idea, but in practice trying to intercept them is going to be tough."

EDI's voice filled the room. "If I may suggest something, Shepard? Jeff has been working on this exact problem. I would get him involved in your deliberations."

Shepard nodded. "Let's be the mountain going to Mohammed. I'm sick of sitting here anyway."

* * *

They were all crowded around Joker's chair. The pilot opened up a larger display over his control station. It showed the Sahrabarik system, with both Omega Station and the Omega Four relay highlighted. Joker zoomed the display closer to the relay and began rapidly sketching on top of it as he spoke.

"The main problem is we don't know exactly where the Collector ship will pop out. Even if we spot it, it will be gone into standard FTL flight before we can get close. And tracking them will be difficult. We might be able to get a general sense of where they're headed, but that's all." The display showed a single blue point near the relay. A red point blinked into existence, and a thin blue line connected the new red point with the blue point. "The blue point is us. The red point is the Collector ship," explained Joker. The red point on the display started to move out of the system, with a red line trailing behind it. The red path rapidly expanded into a large conical swath.

Joker held up one finger. "But that assumes only one ship and one vantage point on our part. If we can get four or more eyes on them before they skedaddle, we can triangulate the Collector ship's heading and get a much better plot of their path." The display now showed multiple blue points near the relay. When the red point appeared, there were now multiple blue lines that stretched out to it. As the red point moved off, its track remained a thin red line.

"So if we can track them," said Shepard, "we can get ahead of them and intercept before they hit a colony. But we need more ships."

"What we need are more like drones," replied Joker. "They just need to have a minimal stationkeeping ability as well as a good sensor and communication package. I've got the specs figured out. And we have the radiation signature of the Collector ships' drives, thanks to the data we got when they took off from Horizon. Once we get the network set up, EDI can interface and run it all. She'll be able to bag 'em no problem."

"Go ahead and send me the drone specs," said Donnelly. "I'll see if we can manufacture them on board. I suspect we're going to need some external resources. It could cut into our cash reserve."

"Just figure the technical portion out," said Shepard. "I'll worry about the money. We need to take the fight to them for once."

* * *

"I need to know. Is there going to be a problem?"

Donnelly had been expecting the question. After they'd broken up the meeting, the Commander had followed him into the elevator. For now, they were the only two in it. He kept his face impassive as he turned to face Shepard.

"Problem, sir?"

Shepard shook his head in irritation. "Come on, Marcus. You know damn well what I mean. Is there going to be a problem between you and Miranda?"

"No sir. You tell me to work with her, I'll do it. I don't like it, but I'll do it."

"That may not be enough," replied Shepard. "We have to work as a team. We can't have the slightest bit of friction, not with what we're facing. This mission is too important-"

"Sir, with respect. I know the importance of the mission." Donnelly felt his jaw set in anger. "But you're not the one who has to deal with Jack in the middle of the night after yet another nightmare."

Shepard looked honestly stricken at the news. "Is it bad? Maybe she should talk to Kelly."

"Kelly has enough on her plate right now. This isn't something that we can all just hug out." Donnelly looked down. "Jack almost fell back into Cerberus hands, not to mention that whole...whatever-it-was with Samara brought up some long-buried memories of Pragia. A lotta shite got stirred up after she thought she'd made peace with it." He took a deeper breath as the elevator door opened on the Engineering level. "I'll do what I can to help, but her forgiving Miranda isn't in the cards."

"If you need anything, let me know," said Shepard. "For now, I guess we just make sure they keep out of each other's way."

Donnelly nodded as the elevator closed. There was something else he hadn't told Shepard. He was pretty sure that, once the Collector mission was over, Jack was going to do her very best to kill Miranda.

* * *

Oriana looked through Joker's files. "So we have to _make_ something out of this? This is just a list of capabilities for the the drones. We don't have any guidance as to where to start." She and Tali were standing in front of the main display in Engineering.

Tali nodded and patted her shoulder. "Welcome to the world of engineering. Here's a list of components we have in stock. Go through it and make a note of anything that looks like it would be useful for sensors or communication. We'd like to use as many on-board items as possible. I'm going to sketch out a possible structural framework for the drone and see if the ship's printing facilities can make it."

The next few hours passed in a blur for Oriana. By the end of it, they were staring at a holographic display of something that looked pretty much like a packing crate with a rocket motor jammed into it.

"Not the prettiest thing I've ever made," said Tali. "But it should work."

Oriana looked over the parts list. "And it looks as if we have most of this, except for some FTL communications components." She looked up at their creation and felt a little glow of satisfaction. Once, there had been nothing. And now there was something. "Wow. I like doing this," she said aloud.

Tali laughed in her quavering way. "Just be careful, it's like a disease. One day you find you're designing a little drone, and next thing you know you're overclocking the shields on a cutting-edge stealth frigate."

Oriana smiled. "There are worse addictions, I suppose. Is it all right if I head out? Mordin had a few assignments for me as well."

"Sure! Thanks for your help, Oriana."

* * *

She almost made it to the elevator without incident. Just as she was passing by the stairs into the Engineering subfloor area, her way was suddenly blocked by a tattooed and glaring woman. Oriana had avoided Jack as much as possible. She had heard second-hand what had happened to the biotic on Illium, and had heard how Miranda had colluded to some extent. It had freaked Oriana out, mostly because what Jack had gone through was very similar to what had been in store for Oriana herself.

"Um," she squeaked out. "Hi. I'm-"

Jack leaned closer. Oriana was very aware of her large brown eyes and smelled the faint musk of the ex-convict's body odor. Jack's lips pursed as if to deliver some vicious harangue, and Oriana steeled herself to bear whatever abuse might get thrown her way. Jack drew in a deep breath, and then spoke in a soft voice.

"Boo."

In spite of herself, Oriana flinched.

Jack gave a huge barking laugh. "Yeah, you're definitely not She-Bitch. I hate that cunt like nobody else, but I'll be the first to admit she doesn't scare easy."

"I never met Miranda until two days ago-"

"Yeah, yeah, I got all filled in on the fucked-up-edness that your, whaddyacall, 'father figure' was getting up to. I know you've been avoiding me. It's 'cause I'm the crazy bitch who'll just as soon kill ya as fuck ya."

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Actually, Oriana would say _exactly_ that, based on her conversations with the crew. The general consensus had been _For the love of all that is holy, do not piss Jack off._ Her questions about what exactly constituted 'pissing her off' had not led to much enlightenment.

Jack snorted. "You're a diplomatic one, ain't ya?" She looked Oriana up and down. "Don't worry, Ennesby, you're safe from me. I'm not stupid, I'm just crazy."

Oriana couldn't resist correcting her. "Um, my name is Oriana, not Ennesby-"

The biotic cut in. "Don't give a shit. Right now, you are Not She-Bitch. Enn. Ess. Bee. NSB" She reached forward with one finger and gently poked Oriana in the forehead. "And you should be very grateful I'm just gonna call you that. If all this shit had gone down six months ago, the old me would have cut up one of you just so's I could tell you apart." Jack paused in thought. "Though I guess I woulda maimed She-Bitch instead of you."

* * *

Oriana's elevator ride up to the CIC was almost calm by comparison. But then the door opened on the mess hall level and Miranda walked in. The older woman stopped a little upon seeing Oriana, but then continued into the elevator. She turned around. Miranda didn't say anything during the ride up, but Oriana could see the tension in her 'sister's' neck.

She realized it was going to be like this for the rest of the _Normandy's_ mission, unless she did something. Miranda had lost whatever initiative had possessed her, and was certainly not going to make the first move.

The elevator door opened, and Miranda began to walk out. Oriana grabbed her elbow before she could walk two paces. Miranda looked back in surprise, but Oriana didn't meet her eyes as she towed her 'sister' towards Mordin's lab. There was a little alcove area just before the lab with doors on either side. It wasn't ideal, but at least she could talk to her in private.

As the doors to the alcove closed, Oriana turned and glared at Miranda. "I'm not having this. We are not going to keep creeping around this ship and not talking to each other. Just so you know...I'm still really, really mad at you. But I don't hate you."

Miranda looked at her steadily. "I'm glad to hear that. I never meant to hurt you or cause you any pain. Everything I did was for you."

"So why not contact me? This whole mess came at me out of the blue. It would have been nice to have some warning."

"And how was I supposed to phrase it? 'Hi, Oriana, I'm your long-lost sister and genetic twin. Oh, you want to know about your father? Well, he's a megalomaniacal twit who wanted to make a perfect female out of his own genetic material. Oh, wait, did I forget to mention you're a clone? How careless of me.' Can you at least appreciate that it would be hard for me?"

Oriana shrugged. "I guess so. But I thought you were all about doing the hard things. You managed to pull off Shepard's resurrection, after all."

Miranda waved one hand. "That was just technically difficult. Emotionally difficult things...I don't do as well with those. I guess I thought I knew better. I thought I could keep you from having to deal with any of this craziness. You could just have a normal life. I thought I could control the situation, and I wouldn't have to have _that_ conversation with you."

"You can't control everything, Miranda."

"I know that now. But I was made to be perfect. And I thought I was perfect, for a long time. I thought I knew better than everyone." Miranda gave a bitter, despairing laugh. "And I am perfect. Even my _screw-ups_ are perfect. Everyone on this ship now hates me. I'm at the epicenter of one of the largest failures in Cerberus history. And I nearly let someone on this ship fall back into Cerberus custody after they brutalized her during her entire childhood." She looked down and sniffed. "Just...thanks for saying you don't hate me. That's something, at least." She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Oriana hesitantly reached out with one hand, and cautiously touched Miranda's shoulder. "Jacob doesn't hate you. I've seen how he looks at you."

Miranda shook her head. "I burned that bridge a long time ago. I told him I didn't love him."

That puzzled Oriana. "So you said a stupid thing. So what? He's loyal to you, you know that. He sure seems like a good guy. And, as shallow as it sounds, he is really handsome. Why not at least try to make it work?"

Miranda rubbed her eyes again. "I can't...I don't know if I'm capable of loving anybody." She looked up at Oriana. "Even you. Did I do what I did out of love for you? Or was it because of some kind of twisted sense of justice? Did I just...not want my father to succeed? I don't know. I get so far up into my own head...I should have known better. The whole mess with Jack, I should have been able to look at it and know that it was wrong. That Cerberus was wrong."

There were tears running down Miranda's face now. "I just didn't think about it. I should have..." She put her hands over her face. Oriana acted without thinking and hugged Miranda.

The touch seemed to break whatever control Miranda had left, and she sobbed aloud into Oriana's shoulder. Oriana felt the tears soak into the shoulder of her uniform. She didn't say anything, not for a good long while.

Eventually, Miranda pulled her head up. She looked like a wreck. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and her face was smeared with snot and tears. But her voice was much calmer. "Thank you, Oriana. I..."

"Shut up. You overthink everything too much, you know that. You can't keep going like this. You need to at least have at least one person on this ship that you can let your guard down around. Go to Jacob. Just _be_ with him. Okay?"

* * *

Simons touched the door control to Shepard's cabin with a little bit of fear in her stomach. She'd been suddenly asked by EDI to report to the Commander 'at her earliest convenience'. Simons hoped it wasn't some kind of clumsy seduction attempt, and then kicked herself mentally for even thinking it. The Commander had been nothing but polite and professional towards her, and besides it was pretty well known that she didn't swing that way. Even for a hunk like the captain. The door opened, and she heard Shepard's voice. "Hello, Pat! Please, do come in."

The table in front of Shepard's couch was covered with various printouts and a few crude pencil sketches. The sketches showed some kind of winged shape on top of a circular base.

"Hi, Shepard," she said. "Er, you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. Please, have a seat." Shepard motioned to the other end of the couch. She sat a little hesitantly. So far, at least, this didn't _seem_ like a seduction attempt.

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanted to ask this in a more private setting, since I didn't know how sensitive you were about it. I asked EDI to do a little digging into everyone's background. I was looking for a specific skill set."

Simons crossed her arms. She thought she knew where this was going. "And this skill set isn't to do with piloting, I'm guessing."

Shepard looked embarrassed. "No. I knew you were ex-Alliance, but I didn't know why you joined the Alliance in the first place. Until EDI found out. Please understand, she and I are holding this in the strictest confidence. We're the only ones who know about, um..."

"My checkered past," Simons finished. She sighed. "I don't have anything to hide, really. I was just a dumb kid. And where I grew up, you were either in a street gang or you were _meat_. There was no third option. And I got caught by the Bronze. I was given the option to go into Alliance service rather than into prison, so I took it."

Shepard nodded. "That's a sensible decision, certainly."

"But I don't get why you care," said Simons, "I mean, all I really did was theft and some very minor assault and battery. You've got people on board who are a lot more capable than me in those areas."

The Commander looked up and smiled. "You were also the most capable tagger in your gang. EDI was even able to find some pictures of your handiwork. It wasn't just scribbling, it was genuine art. I was amazed, especially since you were working covertly and just had some spray paint."

Simons shrugged and smiled. "You get good at working fast, especially if someone could shoot you at any moment."

He leaned forward and picked up one of the pencil sketches. "This is my crude attempt at the logo of the Spectres. I'm sure you can find much better representations on the Extranet. Do you think you can paint this onto our hull over the Cerberus logos?"

Simons took the sketch from him and leaned back. "This is pretty simple. No faces or anything. Yeah, I can do it. It would be better to do the painting in atmosphere. I know there are some vacuum-compatible spray paints, but I'd have to do a lot of practice runs with them to get a sense for how they lay down on a surface. You want this to look good, after all."

"Okay. Well, we need to do some shopping on Omega anyway. I can look into getting a drydock set up. How long do you think it will take?"

"Mmm...call it two days. I'll do some practicing on a smaller scale down in the hangar beforehand. And I may need to recruit a couple of the crew to help with laying everything out."

"Get whoever you need. And let me or EDI know if you need anything. I want that damn hexagon fucking gone."

* * *

Garrus was now almost satisfied with the way the _Normandy_ looked. Yes, she still had the Cerberus color scheme. And there was a bunch of long, ugly-looking scrapes along the top of her hull. But the Spectre logo now adorned the front of the ship instead of the Cerberus hexagon. It said louder than words that, underneath the skin, the ship now had a crew and an AI that were truly Shepard's to command.

He leaned against the window and took a closer look at Simons' handiwork. She had done a really first-rate job. The logo almost looked as if it was chrome-plated, but that was just a trick of the artwork. The only downside was that they had to buy some drydock time, which ate into their cash flow. Garrus wondered if they could have maybe done a favor or two for Aria T'Loak instead.

He heard someone walk up behind him. From the gait, he knew it was Donnelly.

"Damn," said the engineer, "That's a really good paint job. I didn't get a chance to look at it earlier."

"How did your shopping go?" asked Garrus.

Donnelly made a disgusted sound. "I found two of the FTL comm units we need. But we need at least two more. Also, what they're asking for 'em is highway robbery. I tried to haggle 'em down, but no luck."

"How much are they asking?"

"Enough to reduce our operating time from four months to three."

Garrus shook his head. "I'm guessing word has gotten around that Cerberus and Shepard have parted ways." His earlier thought came up. "I'm wondering if we should get Little Miss 'I Am Omega' involved. She could help out."

Donnelly leaned on the window next to Garrus. "I'll leave that to you and Shepard. Me, I've never met Aria, nor do I ever want to."

* * *

"Aria T'Loak, let me introduce you to our Chief Engineer, Marcus Donnelly."

Donnelly plastered a huge and hopefully sincere-looking smile on his face as he shook hands with an asari gangster who could have him drawn and quartered with a single word.

"It's a pleasure, ma'am." He was proud that his voice didn't crack.

Aria didn't stand up while she shook his hand. She did give him a little smirk of a smile. Well, he supposed that was better than the alternative. She twitched her head at a nearby couch, apparently ordering him to sit. He did so, and felt Shepard settle his weight beside him. The Commander's presence was about the only thing that was keeping him from running screaming from the Afterlife Club.

"You were here on Omega up until about six months ago, right?" asked Aria. Her voice was a little bored as she sized him up. "Ex-Alliance, as I recall."

"That's right, ma'am." Donnelly almost started babbling about his working with Bartock, but figured volunteering less information was more prudent in this situation.

The crime lord in charge of Omega gave Donnelly a wider but still predatory smile. "Weren't you the one who told Admiral Hackett to his _face_ that he was a fucking-"

"Um, yeah, that was me. I was a little upset at the time, ma'am."

She laughed. "You have a quad, as the krogan would say."

Shepard cleared his throat. "So, Aria, thanks for seeing us. We need-"

"You need FTL comm units," said Aria. She sounded bored now. "Your engineer here has been asking around. Why not ask your sponsors for them?" Aria turned her head and gave Shepard a searching look. "Unless the rumors are true. Did you really tell The Illusive Man where to stick it?"

Shepard shrugged. "In so many words. Suffice it to say I'm off his Christmas card list."

Aria tilted her head. She didn't look bored any more, now she almost looked gleeful. "So what was the reason? You decided you didn't have enough problems on your plate?"

The Spectre smiled back at her. "Their past sins were too much to bear. Not to mention what they had planned for our future. By the way, if they've made you any promises, you should be aware-"

"Oh, Cerberus tried to get me to impound your ship," said Aria. "They offered me a pretty good chunk of change for my troubles."

Donnelly felt his guts clench, but Shepard just leaned back and casually crossed his legs. "Maybe you should take that money," said the Commander.

Aria gave Shepard a withering look. "Maybe I would, if I was a complete fucking moron. I think you were about to say something about Cerberus promises? Word has also gotten around that they're about as trustworthy as a krogan fertility drug. I ignored their request."

Shepard nodded. "I tried to tell them about the virtues of playing nice. But I guess Timmy has chosen his path. All the same, I appreciate you giving them the brush-off."

The asari gave another laugh. "It's not entirely due to Cerberus's reputation. Frankly, I don't want to piss you off. Things tend to go all explode-y when you get mad, Shepard." She leaned back, mimicking Shepard's relaxed posture. "So let's talk business. What exactly do you need?"

Donnelly spoke up, even though he felt a little like a kitten at an alligator convention. "It's the tachyon coils, mainly. If we can get four of those, we should be able to put the rest of the comm units together ourselves. There are plenty of them around Omega, but they're being used by others."

Aria raised one eyebrow. "And if I get you these units, what are you willing to do in return?"

Shepard spread his hands. "Let's find out. I'm sure you have some intractable problems that need fixing."

She appeared to consider for a moment. "Well, there is one thing I need help with. It's not a simple leg-breaking operation, or I'd do it myself. It's more...political. You see, there's this krogan named Patriarch. He's an old, heh, _acquaintance_ of mine from my early days on Omega. He's in danger, and I need him kept safe."


	33. In The Colosseum

Grunt heard the krogan before he saw him. The voice was hoarse, as if its owner had taken an injury to the throat long ago. But it also, incongruously, had a liquid quality. It was as if the voice had been polished smooth through long use.

"No, no, don't send a batarian to shake down a human," said the voice. Shepard and Grunt walked through the door into the private back room. The voice's owner stood in front of a gaggle of turians and asari. They all sat on couches around the krogan as he held his little court. Some of them looked raptly at the speaker as if he was dispensing the wisdom of the ages. But some also looked bored, as if they'd heard it all before.

"The batarians and humans hate each other too much," continued the krogan. "It turns the whole arrangement from a simple business transaction into a matter of honor. Send a salarian instead. That will keep things nice and civilized." The turian that he was speaking to nodded.

"Are you Patriarch?" asked Shepard.

The krogan turned. Grunt felt a little tingle in his chest. He had seen pictures of Okeer, but somehow the imprinting process had never given him a true sense of what his creator had been like 'in the flesh', as the humans would say. But Patriarch was clearly old and gave off the impression that he had been at war longer than many civilizations. Was this what it was like to stand in front of Okeer? Grunt had never really wanted to know until now.

Patriarch narrowed his eyes. "Who asks? Ah, it's Shepard. The Spectre reborn. I've heard of you." The krogan then shifted his gaze to Grunt. "And who is this whelp?"

Grunt was already standing straight, but now he felt like he should stand even straighter. "I am Urdnot Grunt," he said.

Patriarch walked slowly around Grunt. "I've heard of the doings of the Urdnot clan. They are ambitious, that is for certain." He sniffed in a large lungful of air. "But you do not smell much of Tuchanka. Who is your Battlemaster?"

Grunt nodded towards his Commander. "Shepard is my Battlemaster. And also of my krantt."

"Well, well," said Patriarch in an amused tone. "The galaxy does keep turning. I've never heard of a human in a krantt. It appears your rite went successfully in spite of such a handicap."

Grunt felt his anger begin to rise. "Handicap? My battlemaster has no equal. My krantt slew the maw."

"Indeed?" Patriarch still sounded amused. He walked back in front of Grunt and looked levelly at him. "I imagine Urdnot Wrex was not pleased. He's been flaunting his killing of a thresher maw for centuries."

Shepard stepped back to give them more space, and a few of the onlookers began to look worried.

"Urdnot Wrex is a great man," said Grunt. He could feel his throat tighten with the beginnings of battle-rage. He pitched his voice lower, so that only Patriarch could hear. "He is trying to rebuild Tuchanka, instead of squatting in a bar and dispensing advice to second-rate criminals." Grunt planted his feet and waited for the older krogan to make the first move. Shepard would not want him to start the fight, but Grunt was certainly ready to end it.

Patriarch laughed. "Good! Starting with words instead of just throwing your forehead around. Your battlemaster has taught you well." He clapped Grunt on the shoulder. "You should be proud." He leaned towards Grunt and lowered his voice. "And just between you and me, some of these scum I would classify more as third-rate." He then winked.

Grunt nodded in confusion. He realized it must have been a test on the old krogan's part. Patriarch walked away towards the bar at one end of the room. He waved off the asari behind the bar and poured himself a small drink. The various people who had been listening began to disperse. Some of them looked a little sad that a fight hadn't broken out.

"So, gentlemen. What can I do for you?" asked Patriarch. "Would you care for some asari honey-mead? It's a little sweet for my tastes, but it does have the virtue of being very expensive. And Aria picks up my tab."

"I will try some," said Grunt. "If my battlemaster allows it."

"Sure, go ahead," said Shepard. Grunt took a proffered glass from Patriarch and gave it a sip. It _was_ very sweet.

"Why is it so expensive?" asked Grunt. "It does not seem very strong."

"It's only made in a single monastery," replied Patriarch. "By these asari called Ardat-Yakshi. They suffer from some kind of rare genetic disorder. I don't know the details, but they have to be kept in seclusion. Are you sure you wouldn't like some, Shepard?"

"I'm sure," said Shepard. "I've had enough dealings with Ardat-Yakshi for one lifetime. As to why we're here...well, Aria sent us."

"Did she," said Patriarch. "I guess it was too much to ask that she come and see me herself. To tell the truth, I kind of miss the old days when she'd stop by in person to flaunt her control over me. But she sent you instead of her own minions. Why?"

"It's a little complicated," said Shepard. "She's worried about your safety, but she can't appear to be _too_ worried. She also can't be seen giving you direct help."

"Ah, yes. The problems of ruling through fear and intimidation." Patriarch leaned against the bar. "I'm valuable to her as an example, but only if I maintain some semblance of ability. If I just look like some old, broken-down varren, then I lose my effectiveness as a warning to others." He tossed the rest of his drink down. "So what is it that threatens my so-called safety?"

"The Blood Pack," said Grunt. "Aria has received word that they plan to strike at you."

That seemed to surprise Patriarch. "As a move against Aria, killing me makes no sense. In principle, it does make her look weaker. But all it would do in practice is bring down retribution on the Blood Pack." He tilted his head absently as he thought. "And I speak from experience when I say that Aria's retribution is not something you want to experience."

"Regardless, we're to escort you to safety," said Shepard. "I've got a ship that should be a good safe haven until the Blood Pack gives up looking for you."

Patriarch smiled with a nasty gleam in his eye. "Perhaps I'd rather not be stowed away like so much embarrassing baggage. Maybe Aria's reputation is no longer of concern to me."

Grunt liked the way this was going. It was much more honorable than hiding. "Yes!" he said with enthusiasm. He saw Shepard give him a little warning shake of the head, but Grunt decided to forge ahead since he'd already spoken. "You are krogan! You should fight!"

Patriarch looked over at Shepard as if commiserating. "I remember my youth. Do you, Shepard? I imagine it's much the same for humans. That time in your life when it seems that all problems can be solved if only you hit them hard enough." He turned to Grunt and shook his head sadly. "I can no longer fight, my young and impetuous friend. You could say that my heart is no longer in it." The old krogan tapped his fist over his chest. He was wearing an open vest, and Grunt saw that there was large and ugly scar right over where one of his hearts should be.

"Then we shall fight for you!" exclaimed Grunt. "We will be your krantt!"

Shepard winced a little, then regained his neutral expression. "Only if the esteemed Patriarch wishes it, Grunt."

Patriarch, for his part, looked to be seriously considering the idea. "I have to admit, the notion of having a true krantt again is a heady one. But we must consider all of the repercussions." He gave Grunt a little bow. "You will understand, in time. Someday, and may that day never come, you will have everything go wrong on you. And then you will realize the value in thinking things through before acting."

Grunt looked over at Shepard. "What do you wish me to do, battlemaster? I will follow your example."

The Commander looked thoughtful. "Well, Aria told us to only keep you in seclusion. You seem like a decent fellow, Patriarch, but we're doing this for selfish reasons."

"Of course," replied Patriarch. "I would expect no less. So let us consider things. If you do indeed act as my krantt and remove the Blood Pack threat, then the immediate danger is gone. However, Aria will then see me as stronger, and a possible threat to her authority. She would not appreciate that."

Grunt's head hurt. Why did everything have to be so complicated? "So you will not fight," he said. "And if we fight for you, that will not turn out well. And you will not hide." He began picturing the various options in his head. Somehow, he could hear Okeer's ghost yelling at him from somewhere in the back of his head. He knew he was missing something. But what? It would be so much easier if Patriarch truly accepted Aria as his Battlemaster. She must have bested the old krogan in combat, after all. Wait, that might be an option to pursue.

"Unless..." Grunt began, then stopped. Patriarch looked at him curiously. "Unless you fight for Aria," he continued.

Patriarch tilted his head. "As I said, my fighting days are over."

Grunt realized he hadn't been specific enough. "I do not mean fighting physically. You have a long lifetime of experience. You have many who come to you for advice." He waved at the few remaining patrons. "Make Aria one of them. You said it yourself, it makes no sense for the Blood Pack to target you. So find out what they are up to! And then Aria will know your true worth. You can be a valued member of _her_ krantt."

Patriarch gave a short bark of laughter. "Asari do not have krantt, young one. Not everything can be shaped to fit krogan values..." He trailed off. "Although, the thought of being honestly asked for my input does sound appealing."

Shepard smiled. "And if you help us find out why the Blood Pack are gunning for you, then Aria will really appreciate that. Yes, I think Grunt's onto something."

Patriarch smacked a fist into his hand. "Excellent. We have a goal. Now we just need a strategy. Shepard, you said something about a ship? I should probably avail myself of it while we plan. After all, I cannot give advice to Aria if I'm dead."

* * *

"Hold still, Jack," said Jacob. "This is not something we can half-ass,"

Jack rolled her eyes. Why she was even in the same room as She-Bitch's boy toy was a mystery. "Yeah, this should definitely be a full-assed thing. So...why am I getting roped into this horseshit?"

Patriarch raised one finger as if he was lecturing a classroom. "You have a significant bounty on your head, young Jack. Combined with the Blood Pack's desire for my head, together we should make irresistible bait."

She snorted, and gave Patriarch a sideways glance. They were both sitting on crates on the hangar deck. Jacob was attaching an emergency shield harness to Jack's armor, and Donnelly was similarly fussing over Patriarch. The engineer glanced at her over the old krogan's shoulder. Donnelly put on a very serious expression and raised one finger, mimicking Patriarch's gesture. He then crossed his eyes and flapped his mouth as if silently lecturing her. Jack smiled and felt a little surge of happiness, followed by a little bit of worry. Things between her and Marcus were going great, but how long could it last? She told herself to stop being stupid and just enjoy the moment.

Shepard stood nearby and was checking over his weapons. "Don't worry, Jack. We'll have lots of eyes on both of you."

"I ain't worried, exactly" said Jack. "Just be warned, if it looks like things are going south I'm gonna start squishing fools."

"As long as they can talk afterwards, then squish away," said Patriarch. "I have my suspicions as to what the Blood Pack is up to, but I need confirmation."

* * *

A fully armored krogan resembles nothing so much as a tank on two legs. Jack felt a slight tingle of fear in her chest as she watched what looked to be dozens of them walk slowly towards her and Patriarch. Their attackers' armor was the dull red of the Blood Pack. In the dull overhead light of the corridor, the red coloring looked almost black. Jack shifted her stance a little bit to keep Patriarch at her back.

They had been continuously walking through the underbelly of Omega and trying to look like 'irresistible bait', in Patriarch's words. The old krogan had picked this particular corridor intersection as the most likely ambush point, and sure enough once they'd entered all of the exits had been blocked by a swarm of armored krogan.

"Patriarch!" said one of their attackers. The mercenary's voice was harsh and amplified. "Your time has come. Fight well and we shall make sure your skull is transported to the Hollows."

Patriarch turned to face the speaker. He had an odd smile on his face that Jack didn't like the look of. It looked too much like someone who was making peace with himself and getting ready for death.

"You speak well, whelp," replied Patriarch, "In spite of your dishonorable task. It seems you have not entirely forgotten the old ways. I will make sure to remember you."

"Human, you do not need to die," added the mercenary. "Stand aside, and we will treat with you fairly."

"Squish time now?" muttered Jack.

"Stand by," said EDI in Jack's ear. "They need to fire first." The plan was to let the Blood Pack's gunfire cover the sound of the _Normandy's_ strike team attacking from the rear. Jack's attention was suddenly diverted by a symphony of harsh clacking noises. The Blood Pack now had their guns aimed at the duo.

"Steady, Jack," commed Shepard. "We're in position."

There was a little silence. If this was a western movie, thought Jack, a tumbleweed would blow across the road right about now. But of course there were no tumbleweeds on Omega. So Jack decided to kick things off.

"Well, lizard breath?" she called. "Are you gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?" She'd heard a similar line in a movie once, but she had no fucking idea who or what Dixie was. It sounded cool, though.

There was a huge, rolling rumble of thunder as all of the krogan fired simultaneously. Jack flinched involuntarily, but the rounds just ricocheted off of the emergency shield that formed around her and Patriarch. She saw several of the rearmost members of the attacking krogan go down right after firing. The krogan who had accosted them bellowed, "To the rear!". Some of the krogan turned to face the new threat, but it was already too late.

Jack had her own shotgun out by now. Just as she let loose a blast, there was a roar beside her and Patriarch began waddling into the fray. The stupid krogan didn't even have a gun, but the wide smile on his face told Jack that Patriarch did not care.

 _Fuck._ She had been told that, no matter what, she was to keep the old bastard safe and unharmed. Jack threw a shockwave into a clump of krogan to distract them from Patriarch's attack and quickly thought through her options. She decided that valor and honor could go fuck themselves and reached out with her power.

Patriarch's gleeful expression became puzzled as he realized he wasn't actually touching the ground anymore. Jack gently set him back down behind her as if he was a delicate soap-bubble. "At least use a gun, dude," she yelled as she began firing. The Blood Pack numbers were definitely thinned by now, and only a few were left. By now, they had to use the corpses of their own comrades as cover. Jack stopped firing. After all, they needed at least a few of them alive to interrogate.

The old krogan stepped up beside her and shook himself. "My apologies. I didn't...expect the blood rage...at my time of life." He was breathing heavy and his hands clenched spasmodically. Jack glanced over at him and rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she replied, and tossed him her shotgun. He caught it easily with one hand in spite of his apparent tremor. "Have at 'em, grandpa."

Patriarch aimed with one hand and fired just as one of the Blood Pack came out of cover. The shot caught the mercenary right between the shoulder-blades, and the impact shoved him forward onto his stomach.

"Nice shot," said Jack, a little grudgingly. It really had been a good hit.

Patriarch gave her a toothy smile and handed her back the shotgun. "That one, at least, should still be alive. Let's go check."

He walked forward and Jack followed. By now, there was no one left firing on the Blood Pack side. Patriarch stood over the mercenary and kicked away several nearby guns. He reached down and undid a few latches, then gently pulled the mercenary's helmet off. "Can you give me a hand?" he asked Jack.

The downed krogan groaned as they wrestled him into a sitting position against one of the other krogan bodies. "What?" murmered the mercenary, then looked up. "Ah. You had more allies than we thought, old one." From the voice, Jack guessed that this was the Blood Pack member that had spoken to them just before the firefight. The mercenary had a rattle in his breathing that didn't sound healthy to Jack.

Patriarch leaned over as best he could and gave the younger an almost sympathetic look. "You fought well, whelp," he said. "I'll offer you the same honor you would have given me. I will make sure your skull reaches The Hollows."

The Blood Pack krogan gave a little laugh and spit up a little blood. "Not for free, I'm guessing."

Patriarch nodded. "I just need to know who gave the order to kill me."

The younger krogan shook his head. "I don't know why, I only follow orders. I'm assuming it was to weaken Aria."

"I did not ask why, I asked _who_. Was it Kureck or Womerck who gave you the order?"

"It.." the Blood Pack krogan looked confused. "It was Kureck. Kureck told us to kill you."

"And Womerck didn't agree." Patriarch's reply wasn't a question. The younger krogan just nodded with a confused look still on his face. He kept looking confused even as his eyes grew dull and unseeing.

Patriarch reached forward and gently closed the krogan's eyes. "Thank you, young one," he said quietly. "I will keep my promise. You will see The Hollows." He straightened up as Shepard approached. The Spectre looked at the body with disappointed expression.

"That's too bad," said Shepard. "None of the others were taken alive. I know you needed information."

The old krogan smiled widely. "I have enough. I know exactly what the Blood Pack is up to."

* * *

"It all started with Archangel," explained Patriarch. Aria had actually agreed to come visit the older Krogan, and now she sat in a relaxed, almost sprawled manner on a couch as she listened. Shepard could have sworn that she almost looked interested. Apart from Aria's batarian lieutenant, there was no one else in the little bar.

"The three big mercenary companies on Omega teamed up to take down the vigilante," continued Patriarch. "And the Blood Pack leader, Garm, was killed during the last assault on Archangel's stronghold. There's been a power vacuum in the Blood Pack's Omega chapter ever since. The two big contenders are Kureck and Womerck."

Aria sighed. "I forgot how long-winded you can get, old friend. I'm assuming there's a point to this?"

"Kureck was the one who gave the order to have me killed," replied Patriarch. "He's the ambitious one. He was Garm's right hand, and he was the one who pushed the Blood Pack to team up with the Blue Suns and Eclipse in order to deal with Archangel. In contrast, Womerck is much more...conservative."

"So just kill Kureck," said Aria. "Problem solved. Should be a piece of cake for whoever it was that killed Garm. Right, Shepard?" She gave him a little smug smile and a wink.

Patriarch smiled wider. "Kureck isn't working alone. As I said, he was the one who made contact with the other two mercenary chapters on Omega. And he is still in contact with them. My murder was meant to be a...call it a 'flanking maneuver'. A maneuver against you."

Now Aria no longer looked bored. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. The mercenary companies want Omega. _You_ were the actual target, not me. The idea was to get you distracted and chasing after my murderers while they all made their move on you." Patriarch held out a hand to Shepard, who slapped a datapad into it. It was a little bit of dramatic theatrics that they'd worked out in advance. The krogan then handed the datapad to Aria. "It's all here. I already had lots of circumstantial evidence, but the key to it all was knowing that Kureck ordered my killing. Once I had that, the rest of it just fell into place."

Aria paged through the datapad with an increasingly stormy expression. She finished and her face relaxed into an eerie calm. She looked at her batarian flunky. "So tell me," she said to him in a grating voice. "Why the fuck am I only finding out about this _now_?" She flicked the datapad at the batarian like a shuriken.

The lieutenant caught it clumsily. "Um, I'll look into it, Aria," he mumbled.

Aria motioned her head towards the door. The batarian ducked his head in a quick almost-bow and hurried out the exit. She turned and gave Patriarch a long look.

"You could have kept your mouth shut and let them kill me," she said, in a much calmer manner. "Shit, you could have teamed up with Kureck once you knew what the play was." She glanced at his scarred chest. "I would have, in your shoes."

Patriarch shrugged. "What happened between us was a long time ago. Call it...the fortunes of war. I've long since forgiven you." He gave Aria an equally intense stare. "Besides, Omega is much better served with you in charge. I have no doubt that, after you were gone, I would be able to get all of the mercenaries working against each other. And after a bloody and tedious struggle I could have once again ruled Omega. For a while, at least. But it would end. It always ends." He shook his massive head. "As rough as Omega is right now, it could be so much worse. And...as foolish as it may seem, I would miss you."

Aria leaned back and gave Patriarch a small smile. "Well, I'll be. A sentimental krogan. It's just like my mothers told me." She stood and winked at Shepard. "If you live long enough, you'll eventually see everything." The asari walked towards the door, and paused next to Shepard. "Docking bay twelve, in six hours." She turned and looked back at Patriarch. "And you, you old bastard. I miss seeing your ugly mug up in Afterlife. Don't be a stranger any more, okay?"

The krogan nodded. It could have been Shepard's imagination, but the ancient alien actually looked happy.

* * *

Oriana peered over Donnelly's shoulder as he opened the container that held the tachyon coils. Each coil consisted a of bronze knurled cylinder about the size of a human forearm, and they were nestled snugly and neatly in foam cutouts.

"These look brand new," he said.

Jack chuckled. "All they said was that they fell off the back of a freighter passing through. You know how it is on Omega." Oriana was glad that Donnelly was here. In spite of Jack's prior reassurance, she was still uneasy around the biotic. Jack seemed to be a lot calmer when the Chief Engineer was around.

Oriana looked down and counted. "They gave us five instead of four. I guess we have a spare if we need it?"

Donnelly shrugged. "They don't really break. I tell you what, lass. After we get these drones built you can use the extra coil for a project of your own."

"What do you want me to build?" she asked.

"Anything you like. It'll give ya something to do in your downtime."

Oriana stood up and stretched. "That sounds neat. I wish I could say I had all that much downtime. Doctor Solus is keeping me pretty busy as well."

Jack peered at Oriana. "I was wondering what the frog-dude was up to. He's been kinda avoiding me recently."

Oriana had heard from Kelly about what had happened in the medbay during Samara's near-death experience. She had then asked Mordin about it, but only once. The salarian had shook his head and refused to answer. He didn't look angry. He looked more like he was stricken with doubt.

Aloud, she said, "Mostly we're reverse-engineering some pieces of Collector tech that you picked up on Horizon. We're going really slow, just in case there's any danger of Indoctrination. There was a particle-beam weapon in particular that Shepard really wants to get his hands on."

The biotic smirked. "I guess that makes two things our fearless leader wants to manhandle. I wish he would just go pull her into his cabin and be done with it."

Oriana looked around. They were the only three on the hangar deck for now. "This is about Tali and Shepard, right?" she asked in a low voice. She was still unsure about how much gossip was tolerated on board.

Jack waved one hand at Oriana in a _there it is_ gesture. "You see?" she said to Donnelly. "Only fifteen goddamn days on the ship and she knows what's up. Why are the two of them so fucking clueless?"

Donnelly stood. "It's not that simple, Jack. You know there are other issues involved."

"Why, because one of them is a buckethead? That's stupid. If they want to bone, they should just figure it out and bone. But nooooo, they have to be all _sensitive_ about it." Jack clasped her hands together and brought them up to one side of her face. She fluttered her eyes and began speaking in a high falsetto. "Oh, woe is me! For I am in love with Mr. Hunky Space Hero Shepard. But alas, it cannot be because I am a delicate little buckethead and I might catch a sniffle." Jack then shifted her hands to the other side of her face and began talking at a much lower pitch. "Oh, how sad I am! For I am in love with Miss Waifu 'Hips For Days' Tali. But alas, it cannot be because she is a delicate little flower and cannot withstand a schlonging from my Mighty Space Hero Penis."

Donnelly began laughing right at the start. For her part, Oriana tried to keep a straight face. But she couldn't hold it in after the 'schlonging' bit. She let forth the first real belly-laugh she'd had since Illium. The laugh echoed around the hanger deck, and Jack grinned back at her.

"That's better," Jack said. "You were looking too serious."

Oriana got her laugh under control. "It really is kind of like one of those horrible old-time gothic novels, isn't it? One of those where everyone's mooning after each other and dying of consumption."

Jack gave a laugh herself. "Yeah, all we need is a crazy wife hiding out in the attic."

Donnelly gave a evil grin. "Wellll, lassie, we _do_ have a crazy person hiding out in the basement. Is that close enough?"

Jack pointed a warning finger at him and gave him a friendly glare.

* * *

Joker tapped in a few commands into the console. "You should be all connected to the drone, EDI," he said.

"Affirmative," replied EDI. "I can feel it."

He felt Oriana lean over his chair as she looked out the forward windows. Tali stood on the other side with her arms crossed in a confident manner. They could see the little pulses of the drone's thrusters as it darted around the front of the _Normandy_.

"It all appears nominal," said EDI. "I have full control capability, and the sensor input from the drone is as expected."

Tali nodded. "Good, a successful prototype. I guess we'll go ahead and build the other drones, then."

"EDI, you said you could 'feel' it," said Oriana. "Does it feel like an appendage to you?"

"I cannot say, Oriana. I have never had appendages as organics do, so it is difficult to compare. I would say that I perceive it more like a locus of my conciousness."

"Hmm." Joker looked over his shoulder to see the young woman deep in thought.

* * *

Operating at General Quarters was getting to be boring for Kelly. That wasn't something she would have expected a week ago. They had to be ready for when the Collectors next came out of the Omega Four relay, but so far the Reaper's proxies had been a no-show. She walked up the aisle to the cockpit to check on Joker and Shepard. The two of them had been a more or less constant fixture up there during the vigil. Sure enough, they were both present. Shepard was awake in the copilot's chair. Joker was dozing and lightly snoring.

"Coffee?" Kelly asked quietly, holding up a drinking bulb. They were on zero-gee protocols in case of violent maneuvers, which meant in turn the crew was eating prepackaged food and drinking through straws. Both Garrus and Tali were now smugly telling the rest of the crew to deal with it, since they'd had to do the same since coming on board.

Shepard nodded, and gave Kelly a little smile as he accepted the drink. "Thanks," he murmured. "How are things going back there?"

"It's holding together, so far," replied Kelly. "But I almost wish something would happen. We can't stay at alert forever. Seven days is a long time to be on edge." There was something else bugging her. It involved the date, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I know," replied Shepard. "Unfortunately, the Collectors don't seem to hold to any timetable. The average between colony abductions has been four weeks. It's been almost three weeks since Ferris Fields got hit. Horizon was about six weeks before that." He made a palms-up 'what can you do?' gesture towards the cockpit's windows. "Right now, we're waiting on them to make the first move."

"What about bait?" asked Joker. Kelly started a little; she hadn't expected the pilot to talk.

"Sorry, Joker," said Shepard. "We didn't mean to wake you."

"Nah, it's cool. But really, why don't we put out some bait?"

Kelly smiled. "What do you suggest? Some cheese?"

"Nope. Us. More specifically, him." Joker waved at Shepard. "That is, if the Commander is cool with it."

"Right now, I'd put on pasties and a g-string and do cartwheels on top of Omega if I thought it would help," replied Shepard. He thought for a bit. "Are you thinking of a well-crafted distress signal from the _Normandy_?"

Joker nodded. "Yep. That Harbinger dude seemed to have a real hard-on for you during the Horizon action. He even called you by name."

"Yeah, and I'm at such a loss here," said Shepard dryly. "I mean, should I be sending him flowers or something?"

Kelly had long ago gotten over her initial fan-girl awe of Shepard, but for just a moment it came back in full force. If _she_ had been the focus of attention for an eons-old destroyer of civilizations, she sure wouldn't be making jokes. She would probably be curled up in a corner and trying very hard not to whimper.

"What do you think, EDI?" asked Joker.

"The idea has merit, Jeff," replied EDI. "I can create something that will look very convincing. But we can't broadcast it from right next to their mass relay. That will definitely smell like a trap to the Collectors. And we can't use a standard distress beacon, not without extensive modification. It needs to look like it's coming from the ship, not from a beacon."

"What if we use one of the drones to broadcast the signal from somewhere else?" asked Kelly. "Can we get a good track using only three drones plus the _Normandy_?"

"It will be less precise," replied EDI. "But if we can draw out the Collectors using a planted distress signal, then we will have the advantage of knowing their destination. We can certainly tell if they've fallen for the deception."

"And we can prepare them a nice warm reception as well," mused Shepard. "Let's do it. EDI, secure from General Quarters and get Sergeant Gardner on the line. Let's give everyone the chance to have a nice hot meal before we start."

That kicked loose in her brain the issue that had been bugging Kelly. "A big meal! Shepard, I don't know if you realize it, but it's towards the end of November on the Terran calendar. There's a North American holiday called _T_ _hanksgiving_ which involves a lot of eating..."


	34. Filipino Box Spring Hog

"Maybe we can claim engine trouble?" mused Donnelly. "Let's see, if we claimed a plasma conduit break that would make sense. We wouldn't be able to move, but we'd still have power for life support. And we can say that some of the crew was killed, which would make it easier for them to board-"

"Assface," said Jack, "Will you shut off your nerd brain for a while and just fucking eat?" Donnelly came back to himself. Shepard had called all of the crew shifts at once into the mess for the big meal, and the Commander was even helping Gardner in serving the crew. Donnelly had to admit that it was great to not be eating out of a pouch for once. Even Jacob and Miranda looked to be enjoying themselves. The two of them were off in one isolated corner of the mess, eating and talking softly to each other. Donnelly made sure to ignore them. The last thing he wanted was to get Jack wound up about Miranda again.

"So what is a turkey, anyway?" asked Jack.

Donnelly gave a little shrug. "It's a big bird from Earth."

"You're from Earth. You ever see one?"

"Of course," replied Donnelly. "We had huge herds of 'em, running right down the streets of Glasgow."

"Oh, man. I can't believe it. What is it like?"

"Well, the big problem is that they migrate seasonally. They aren't all that common in the spring, but they breed like bloody crazy once fall arrives. Then we have to stay indoors as the turkey horde comes through, right around late November."

Jack leaned forward with a fascinated look. "That must be amazing to see. Are they dangerous?"

"Oh, aye. They can strip the flesh right off of yer bones in ten seconds flat." Donnelly wanted to keep the line of bullshit going, but finally he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Jack saw his smirk and rolled her eyes. She reached across the table to slap the side of his head.

"Shithead. You should know better than to take advantage of a poor defenseless little girl who's lived on starships most of her life."

They finished eating in companionable silence. Jack managed to put away about twice what Donnelly ate. He still couldn't believe how much she could eat and not gain any weight. He knew it was due to the whole 'powering biotics' thing but it was still impressive. When she was hungry, Jack could give a krogan a run for his money.

That thought made him realize somebody was missing. "Where is Grunt?" he asked. "I thought he'd be all over a meal like this."

Jack raised one eyebrow. "He's down in his den, getting ready. He told Gardner that there was no way a mere human feast could satisfy a 'pure krogan's appetite'." She made little finger quotes in the air while still holding a fork. "I think our boy Gardner took it as a challenge. He told Grunt to get ready."

"I wonder what a krogan 'getting ready' to eat consists of."

"Probably banging his head into the wall and calling on his ancestors to watch over him during his upcoming bout of gluttony." Jack finished the last of her stuffing. "Aah," she sighed in satisfaction. She glanced around.

Everyone was now eating. Garder had put together some dextro-based fresh food for Garrus, and had even managed to find some sanitized quarian rations that weren't paste. They had run the airlock decontamination cycle a few times and now Tali was in there, happily ensconced in a sterile environment and eating her first solid meal in a good long while. Shepard was on the other side of the mess from Donnelly and Jack. He was chewing his food thoughtfully as he stared off into space. His thoughts were clearly with Tali.

Jack looked at Shepard and shook her head. "This is ridiculous. We _gotta_ get those two laid." She grinned at Donnelly. "You up for being in another conspiracy?"

"Oh, no," replied Donnelly. "We got away with that shite once. We try anything sneaky again and Shepard will have our guts for garters."

"It's not anything nefarious, dude. We just need to give 'em both a gentle nudge at each other, you know? I've seen how the buckethead looks at him. Give her half a chance and she'd pounce on him right in the middle of the CIC." Jack leaned back. "Speaking of which. I notice you've finished your meal too." She fixed him with a steady and _particular_ look that Donnelly was coming to know very well. "And we've got eight hours left before we need to set up the distress call."

Donnelly took a swig of water to buy some time. "Ah. I guess we do. Wanna head back to my quarters?" He tried to make it sound casual. He was pretty sure that the upcoming sex (and it was very certainly upcoming) wouldn't be that simple. Jack got really...frisky before heading into dangerous situations, and she liked to experiment.

She showed him her teeth. "That sounds too boring. I think that I'll just have you wherever I catch you."

"I'm feeling kinda slow, lassie. I just ate, after all. What if you catch me right here?"

"Well, then the crew gets a free show along with their meal." Before he could reply, she shoved her tray aside and stood up on the table top. Everyone in the mess turned to look at her.

"Attention, my lovelies." Jack grasped the lapels of her leather vest, almost as if she was about to launch into a political speech. "This motherfucker here," she pointed down at Donnelly, "tried to feed me a line of bullshit about turkeys being dangerous fucking predators. I'm gonna take my revenge on him, and by revenge I of course mean I'm gonna fuck him 'til he can't walk no more. This has been your official announcement."

Donnelly sighed out and slumped a bit as if defeated. He uncoiled like a spring and launched himself off of the bench just as Jack leaped for him. He felt the faintest tug on one boot as he got himself clear of her attempted grab. He hit the floor and rolled inelegantly, then sprinted for the exit.

He heard Jack's yell from behind him. "Oh, you are SO going to get it now, Assface!"

Just as Donnelly ran into the hall, he heard Shepard's amused voice following them. "Don't break him too badly, Jack. I need him functional."

Donnelly punched the button for the elevator, but of course the doors didn't open and he wasn't about to wait around for them. He kept sprinting towards the door to Life Support.

* * *

Shepard grunted with effort and set his end of the big carcass on the floor. "You know, I was wondering what the hell you had all wrapped up in the freezer. But we didn't have any crew missing and I really didn't want to open it up and take a look."

Gardner grinned from the other end of the skinned animal. "I got this at a really good price last time we were at Omega. I was planning to cut it up and portion it out, but then Grunt had to go and make his little comment. Hand me that blowtorch, willya?"

Shepard did so, and then glanced around. The crew had pushed the tables against the walls of the mess to form a circle. He noted with amusement that they were all sitting behind the tables as if to sheild themselves from what was about to happen. In the middle was a lot of plastic tarps underneath a big metal plate. And, on top of _that_ was what looked like some sort of skinned dinosaur.

"Um, what is it?" he asked Gardner.

The cook was in the middle checking the blowtorch. "This is a...shit, don't ask me to pronounce it. It's some sort of carnivore from Dekunna, the elcor homeworld. Big bastard, ain't it?"

Kasumi called from the sidelines. "Why bother cooking it, though?"

Gardner seemed almost insulted at the idea. "This is matter of principle! I've gotta _make_ him something, not just shove raw material down his throat."

Garrus decided to back up his partner. "But Grunt doesn't seem to care about taste, just quantity."

Gardner beamed and nodded. "I've done a little readin', though. Turns out krogan taste receptors aren't anywhere near as senstive as most other races. So they never really developed spices and whatnot. And that means I can use my secret weapon." He walked behind the mess counter and pulled out a glass jar with a very angry-looking skull and crossbones on its lid. He carried it over carefully to the carcass and set it down gently. He then pulled on a pair of very thick gloves and took a deep breath.

Shepard scratched one ear. "Um, do I want to know what's in there?"

"My special spice rub. I hadda Cajun great-aunt on my mom's side. She passed down this recipe to my family. I sorta...zinged it up a little bit and substituted in some ghost peppers." He paused. "Actually, it was a shitload of ghost peppers, now that I think about it. I have to keep it in glass, 'cause it tends to eat through metal."

It could have been Shepard's imagination, but his eyes started to burn slightly as soon as Gardner opened the jar.

* * *

"But why the blindfold, Battlemaster?"

"It's a surprise, Grunt. Humans like to do surprises for people they care about."

Grunt didn't know what to say to that. He could understand honor and loyalty. During Jack's kidnapping he had stepped forward to rescue her. But that was to repay the debt he had incurred during the battle on Horizon. And now he knew her true ferocity as a warrior. Grunt would happily go into battle against _anybody_ with Jack at his side.

But did he care for her, in the sense that Shepard meant? Grunt realized that he didn't know the first thing about Jack other than her combat ability. It was something to ponder on.

The elevator came to a stop, and the door opened. The smell hit Grunt's nostrils and he took a deep involuntary sniff. This was a smell that hit some deep part of his brain. He felt a little rush of saliva in his mouth.

Shepard coughed a little. "Okay, I'm taking your arm, alright?" Grunt felt the human's hand at his elbow. He allowed himself to be steered out of the elevator and towards the mess. The smell grew stronger. This was an aroma that seemed to Grunt almost like a challenge. It was the first time he'd ever thought of eating as a battle. It was usually a simple matter of how much there was. But now, he realized that this particular meal might not be so simple. The smell was tantalizing, and promised untold pleasure...if he was brave or foolish enough to try it.

Grunt came to a stop, and Shepard removed his blindfold. He almost fell to his knees at the sight in front of him. The carcass was blackened and charred here and there. A little part of Grunt's brain was irritated at the other races' obsession with cooking. Why not just eat things raw? But there was also that smell, that wonderful enticing and above all _challenging_ smell. Sergeant Gardner stood next to the carcass and smiled proudly. He made a little presentation gesture towards his creation.

"Grunt... _bon appetit_ "

Gardner had to sprint for one of the tables to get out of the way of Grunt's charge.

* * *

Tali was taking her time to savor this opportunity to eat actual solid food. She chewed thoughtfully and gave thanks that her suit's autonomic maintenance functions included keeping her teeth clean and strong. After all, it would have been easy for her peoples' usual diet of pastes to have caused the quarian teeth to atrophy into uselessness. She chased another cube of meat with her fork and speared it. She brought it up to her face and regarded it with joy. The fact that she wasn't looking through a visor was also something to savor. This must be what the other crew felt like all the time. It was a a shame that they were too used to it to realize just how wonderful it was.

Just as she was about to take a bite of the meat, there was a dull rhythmic thud from the airlock door. She then heard Shepard's muffled voice.

"Tali?"

She felt a happy little flutter in her stomach. "Y-yes? Is everything okay? Did you need the airlock for-"

"Nothing's wrong. I just thought you could use some company. And Grunt's in the middle of demolishing an entire dinosaur, which isn't the most pleasant thing to watch. How's the food?"

"It's..." She trailed off. How could she get across to him the utter bliss she was experiencing? "It's amazing," she finally said. "I can't thank you enough, really, it's too much."

Tali heard Shepard's chuckle. "Thank Sergeant Gardner. Honestly, most of it was his idea. I'm glad you're enjoying it, though. Do you want me to leave you in peace? I can-"

"No!" Her reply almost came out as a yell. "I'm glad you're here. I may-" she couldn't resist and finally shoved the cube of meat into her mouth. She spoke around it. "I may ea' while we 'alk, if you don' mind."

"That's fine," replied Shepard. "It...I just can't imagine how your people cope with day-to-day life. I really do want to see the Migrant Fleet one of these days."

"Don' worry, I'm sure you will." She chewed a little. "Quarians have done lo's of research into AI, af'er all. I'm sure it'll be somehow useful for dealing with the Reapers."

"Yeah. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I would rather have my visit be a social call."

Tali smiled to herself. "'at's a nice thought." She finished chewing and swallowed.

She was about to add something else when there was a thumping noise from the other side of the door. She heard a loud "Excuse me, sir!" Tali could have sworn it sounded like Donnelly. There was a thudding of booted feet receding into the distance. Then there was another thump, followed by a sound of pelting bare feet and a yell from somebody who was definitely Jack.

"That's cheating, you fucker! I didn't say you could use the access tunnels!"

The sounds of pursuit faded away.

"Do I want to know what that was about?" asked Tali.

She could almost hear Shepard's shrug through the door. "Jack gets really...what we humans call 'horny' when we're about to head into danger. And Marcus is bearing the brunt of that." Tali heard the amusement in his voice. "I guess it's a good thing he's what Kasumi likes to call a 'big strapping man'. Otherwise I think Jack would have worn him down to a nubbin by now."

* * *

Donnelly peeked around the corner. The doorway to Engineering was just visible. He glanced behind him and didn't see anyone. He let out a relieved breath and began to stalk around the corner.

And then, just as he thought he'd make it to the door, he suddenly found himself encased in a blue field and unable to move. Jack walked around into his field of view. "Checkmate, Assface."

She put her hands on her hips and gave a proud little grin. During the chase she had somehow managed to shed every bit of clothing that she'd been wearing.

At least he could still talk. "Where the _bloody_ hell did you come from?"

"You're a typical Earth-born. You looked behind you, but you didn't look up." She gestured at the ceiling above his head. The stasis field vanished, and he stumbled a little. Just as Donnelly began to straighten back up, Jack snaked one of her feet behind his and tripped him onto his back. He went down hard on his gluteus, and immediately felt the weight of Jack sitting on his chest.

She regarded him with one raised eyebrow. "Well? Are you sorry for bullshitting a poor defenseless little girl?" She reached back with one hand and pulled up his shirt. Donnelly felt the tickling of her fingers as she ran them over his stomach.

"What if I say yes?"

"Then I will sit on your face, and if you're a good boy I will give you a treat."

"I'm guessing I don't want to find out what happens if I say no."

Jack pushed her hand down under his waist band and down into his pants. "That depends on how masochistic you're feeling. If you say no, I really will fuck ya 'til you can't walk." Her hand was gentle on his manhood, but he didn't want to test her patience.

"Well lassie, when you put it like that, then I am very sorry. I'm so sor _umph_ -"

Jack slid forward and buried his face in her crotch. She brought both hands forward and twined her fingers into his hair. "Apology accepted, Assface. Now go to work...oh fuuuuck...yeah, I guess I...didn't need to tell you...twice."

* * *

Garrus took a careful look over the table. He could see the eyes of the other crew over the edges of their tables. Only Samara seemed to be unfazed by the spectacle. She was the only one out in the open, and sat cross-legged on a table and munched on an apple while she watched Grunt go about his business. The justicar had a fascinated look on her face, almost like she was watching a nature documentary.

"Is he...done?" asked Kasumi in a near whisper.

"Well, there's no more meat left. He's down to the bones. It must be almost over-" A huge cracking noise resounded through the mess. "Oh, nevermind. He's eating the bones as well."

Garrus saw Kasumi's hood also peek over the table just in time to witness Grunt sliding a long leg-bone down his gullet. The look of it, combined with the orgasmic look on the krogan's face, sent Garrus's mind right into what humans called 'the gutter'. He looked over at Kasumi just as she looked at him. Garrus could tell from her smirk that she had the same thought as well.

They both began snickering like schoolchildren.

"That gives me some ideas," said Garrus.

"I'll bet it does, my cutie. My place?"

He nodded, and they both slipped away. There were more cracking noises behind them as they left.

* * *

Seven days at General Quarters, during which she could only use moist towelettes to clean herself, had taught Oriana the value of a nice hot shower. She wanted to get one last good one in before they started their attempt to bait the Collectors. She was still a little self-conscious about the communal showers, but she had managed to set aside her shyness after a while. All of the women seemed to ignore each other during showering, which helped as well. And another bonus of the communal shower was its automated laundry. It provided warm fluffy towels on demand, and was in Oriana's eyes the most wonderful thing on board the ship.

Oriana was in the middle of massaging her hair dry with one of those towels while reveling in her feeling of being actually clean. There wasn't anybody else in the women's shower, so she hadn't bothered to grab another towel to cover herself. She was walking over to her clothes when she stepped on something foreign on the floor. She looked down in confusion at a pair of panties that she hadn't seen when entering. She picked them up and wondered where she should put them. Did the ship have a lost and found box?

There was a voice from behind her that made her jump a little. "Oh, crap, is _that_ where they wound up? I don't remember chasing him through here."

One tattooed hand came into her view and gently plucked the panties out of her grasp. Oriana turned to regard Jack. The biotic was stark naked and reeking of sex. She was also smiling off into nowhere as if thinking of some private joke. "Thanks," she said, looking over at Oriana. She had a bundle of clothing under her other arm, but hadn't bothered to put any of it on.

"You're...welcome." Oriana remembered the scene from the mess. "You didn't break Marcus, did you?" For the moment, Oriana had completely forgotten that she was also naked save for the towel on her head.

"Nah, I put him in his cabin. Dude's sleeping like a baby. And, I'm proud to say, grinning like an idiot." Jack's eyes suddenly focused, and she gave Oriana a very obvious up-and-down appraisal. "I said god- _damn_. You don't happen to sometimes swing for the other team, do ya? Because you have got tits I would kill for. Not to mention an ass I wouldn't mind planting my flag in." Jack's free hand made little groping motions in the air as if demonstrating.

Oriana simply didn't know what to say. "I-"

"You know, you and me could go and surprise Marcus. Have ourselves a little three-way party. I didn't tire him out _that_ much."

"I-"

"Yeah, it might be kinda weird for him, I guess. He might think you're too young. I dunno, lemme ask him and I'll get back to ya." Jack pointed a finger at her, winked, and sauntered on out the door.

Oriana was left standing there, her equilibrium completely gone. "I...what?"


	35. Walking Spanish

Shepard shifted his weight and tucked his helmet under one arm. "How long since we activated the drone message?"

"Two hours," replied EDI.

"Relax, Commander," added Joker. He was taking his own advice, and looked almost slumped in the pilot's chair. The _Normandy_ was orbiting much farther out from the relay than before, in hopes of being able to get ahead of the Collector ship when they sprung their ambush.

The Commander snorted. "I am relaxed. I'm just wondering how long we should give this before we try something else."

"We have no idea how long they take to get a ship prepped," replied Joker. "The standard Alliance time from receipt of distress signal to scrambling a rescue ship is about three hours. The Collectors could take even more time to get their makeup and nails ready-"

Joker was cut off by EDI's voice. "Omega Four Relay is being activated. I am detecting an activation protocol. This protocol is...not like anything I have ever seen before. Standby, processing. Yes, the relay is coming online."

The larger display over Joker's head now lit up. The O-4 relay was right in the middle of it. Its usual central red glow was now pulsing, much more than the flicker seen in a standard relay during transit. There was an abrupt flash, and a small spark flickered into view beside the relay.

"Is that-" began Shepard.

"Yes," replied EDI. "Drive signature is similar to that seen at Horizon. The exact ship dimensions are not the same as the ship from Horizon, but is is a Collector ship. This one is smaller. I suspect that this is more of a 'strike' ship rather than a 'transport' like the other."

There was brief flash from outside the window as the spark went into FTL. "Plotting," continued the AI. "Yes, it appears that they are headed for our 'distress' drone's location."

Shepard felt a cold certainty in his stomach. All of the preparation was done, and now they were committed. "Go," he said to Joker. The pilot was already in motion, activating their FTL drive. Before Shepard could slam his helmet on his head, the ship was surrounded by the blue/red flickering of FTL travel. He activated the ship-wide comm.

"Attention, all hands. We did it, the Collectors are buying it. Stay at General Quarters until further notice."

* * *

Donnelly patted Oriana on one pressure-suited shoulder. "Just relax. This is the worst part, trust me." The teenager nodded behind her helmet, her eyes huge. But her breathing appeared slow and steady, which was good.

"Why is this the worst part?" she asked. Her voice was steady, which was another plus.

"It's the anticipation," replied Tali. "You know that you're headed into a serious action, but there's nothing to do but wait." The quarian was off near the drive core and monitoring their drive power. "Once the shooting starts, it actually gets better."

Oriana faced her own board and gripped the edge of the console. "Yeah, I guess I can see that. I hope I don't get too used to this like you two are. No offense."

Donnelly laughed, feeling the sound reverberate inside of his hardsuit's helmet. "None taken. Only mad dogs and Englishmen really look forward to it. Speaking of mad dogs...hey Jack, you suited up?"

"Yeah, Assface, I'm all set. You know, you do give me good head, I'll give ya that. But that only gets you so far. I figure I'll allow about ten more 'crazy broad' jokes before I squish your junk into a _teensy-tiny_ black hole."

"Ach, you wouldn't hurt me. Where are you gonna find anybody else willing to put up with yer shite?"

He heard Jack's amused snort over the comm. "With this ass of mine? Buddy, I'll have 'em lining up around the block."

Joker's voice interrupted them all. "Standby, about to exit FTL."

Donnelly set his jaw and called up the main tactical view on his display.

* * *

The flickering blue streaked past the window, then there was suddenly a dark patch ahead that expanded with blinding speed and engulfed the ship. They were back in normal space. Shepard grabbed a nearby handhold and leaned forward to peer out the windows. It was a useless gesture, he knew. EDI could scan space in a fraction of the time it took him to blink. But it still made him feel like he had control of the situation.

"Distress drone still transmitting," said EDI. "No other ships present. All stations report ready."

"We beat 'em here" said Joker. His own helmet was now in place and muffled his voice slightly. "Good plotting, EDI."

"Thank you, Jeff...standby, picking up new arrival."

Shepard was lucky, and happened to be looking in the right direction to see the flash of the distant Collector ship exiting FTL. The newcomer was shown in a zoomed-in detail on the display over Joker's head. It was vaguely cylindrical like the previous Collector ship, but definitely smaller. This was the size of an Alliance dreadnought, perhaps. It still had the rocky and biomechanical look of its larger sibling.

Shepard straightened. He felt the little _click_ in his stomach when everything was committed, when there was no more planning to be done. When all that one could do was forge ahead.

"Hit that fucker," he said.

"Charging," said Garrus's voice over the comm. "Firing solution is plotted. EDI, you have control of the main cannon."

"Acknowledged, Garrus," said EDI. Shepard could hear a little hint of excitement in the normally even-tempered synthetic voice.

Shepard tightened his grip on the handhold as he felt the _Normandy_ bank into an intercept course. He looked at the main tactical plot above Joker's couch. The Collector ship appeared to be fixated on their distress drone. Surely, they must be close enough by now to realize they'd been tricked.

As if reading his mind, the Collector ship began to bank away. "No longer on intercept," said EDI. Before she could finish speaking, Joker's hands were moving over the controls. "Correction, back on intercept. Nice one, Jeff."

"Range?" snapped Shepard.

"Almost there, Commander," said Joker. His hands had never stopped moving as he kept the ship aimed towards the Collector vessel, which was twisting around in a clear effort to escape.

Shepard felt a little thrill in his guts. "How does it feel to be the hunted for once, you sonsabitches?" He could hear the snarl in his own voice.

EDI's voice, in contrast, was now back to being her usual cool and collected self. "Coming in range in three..two...one. Firing." The last word, however, had some real satisfaction behind it.

A blinding pair of beams stabbed out from under their feet, reaching forward towards the barely-visible speck of the enemy vessel. The lights dimmed, and a huge rumble shook the _Normandy_. Shepard held his breath as he looked at the display overhead. The image of the Collector ship suddenly bloomed bright at one portion of its rear.

"Successful hit," said EDI. "We hit the bastards." It almost sounded like she needed a cigarette.

The Collector ship tumbled with the sudden impact. Shepard could see that a large angular chunk had been simply lopped off of the rear of the vessel.

"Oh, yeah," said Joker. "I think we took out at least one of their engines. They're not gonna walk that one off anytime soon." He sounded just as satisfied as EDI.

The Collector ship's control thrusters flared, and it stopped its tumble.

"How soon before we can fire again?" Shepard didn't want to give them the slightest chance to catch their breath.

"Sixty seconds," said Garrus' voice. "Metal reservoir still recharging. Standby."

There was a flare of engines at the rear of the wounded Collector vessel. Shepard looked at the rest of the tactical display and saw that they were moving fast back along their path, back towards the _Normandy_. He nodded. It was what he would have done in their shoes, after all. When cornered, bare your claws and attack.

"They're heading at us, intercept course," said Joker. His face was set in a feral grin. "Guess we get to try our new shields, eh?"

"How much time to recharge the Thranix?" Shepard felt a little warning voice deep in his bowels. The Collectors must have know that this was not a good idea. The _Normandy_ had much stronger shields now, plus the upgraded cannon that their foe had just gotten a taste of. Why were the aliens charging at them?

Garrus sounded like he was in a boring training drill. "Thirty seconds." Hearing his friend's frosty tone helped Shepard relax a bit.

The Collector ship was actually getting larger in the forward windows. "Twenty seconds to firing," continued Garrus.

Shepard could feel that there was a problem. His gut was screaming at him, and he had learned long ago to trust that yell. "Not enough time. Something's wrong. Go to evasive!"

Joker was a trained Alliance pilot. He knew to follow orders, and didn't even hesitate as he reached forward for his controls. "Okay, Commander. But we're not in any real danger, what with the new shields..."

There was a flicker that seemed to run through all of the displays in the cockpit.

"ALERT!" yelled EDI. "Kinetic shields are offline!"

Joker bared his teeth as he slewed the _Normandy_ off to one side. A beam stabbed out at them from the charging Collector ship. "No! Not this time, you fucks!" yelled the pilot. Shepard could see that the rocky vessel was changing course to keep with them. It seemed the aliens thought that ramming was a perfectly fine tactic.

"Status of main cannon!" he yelled.

"Charged," replied Garrus. "You may fire when ready."

Joker danced his hands over the controls. "Down the middle, EDI!"

"Got it, Jeff."

The _Normandy_ fired once more as Joker pivoted their craft. The beams cut deep along one side of the oncoming dreadnought. Joker then twirled the _Normandy_ along its long axis as another two Collector beams shot towards them. They dodged the first. The second...

Shepard felt a tremble run through the ship. This was not the healthy vibration of the main guns firing, this particular tremor meant that something had gone wrong somewhere on the ship.

"Shit," said EDI. Her voice was harsh with electronic stress. "Primary hull breach. Along top of hull. Alerting damage control teams."

* * *

Jack all but danced into Main Engineering. Marcus, her Honey-Boo, was at the main console. She would have cheerfully whittled off her own arm with a penknife rather than admit to Marcus her private name for him. The big lug was already too full of himself as it was. Right now, Honey-Boo and Buckethead were gesturing at each other and at the console display. Something had happened with the shields, or so Jack had heard. They were probably trying to fix it. Jack was glad she had shut off the Engineering comm channel. There was probably enough tech-talk going on to make her head explode. Ennesby stood nearby, clearly at a total loss as to what to do.

The teenager turned as Jack approached, and the biotic could see lots of white around her eyes. The kid was scared, but what could you expect from a goddamn cake-eater? It was a good thing she was around to show the girl how to properly react in these situations. She grabbed both sides of Oriana's helemet in her own armored hands and brought her helmet forward to meet the other's in a dull clunk.

"Now's our time to shine, Ennesby!" she yelled. The contact between helmets should allow the teenager to hear her voice. "Follow my ass!" As Jack turned and ran out of the room, she could feel the kid hot on her heels. She grinned to herself. This chick had promise, even if she shared the same genes as that misbegotten hellspawn Miranda.

* * *

Oriana followed Jack's armored form up through the access tunnels. She knew they were heading for the top of the ship. The strike that had wounded them had shook the whole of Main Engineering and had also made her heart almost stop, until the crazy biotic had come in and commandeered her. Now she could finally understand what Tali and Marcus had meant. She had no time now for fear; now all there was were tasks to perform.

There was a small hatch they came to, and Jack pounded on it. There was a dull clunk that sounded somehow wrong to Oriana's ears.

"We got death pressure on the other side," said Jack over the comm. She turned and Oriana could see through the helmet visor those large brown eyes challenging hers. "You ready, Ennesby?"

She just nodded. Jack's eyes crinkled with her answering grin and she turned and spun the wheel in the center of the hatch. A huge wind blew past them, and Oriana was just barely able to keep her footing. Jack flowed through the hatch in seeming defiance of the gale. All Oriana could do was follow her, even if nowhere near as gracefully.

Oriana gripped the edge of the hatch and pushed to try to close it. The force of inrushing air was too much to overcome. "EDI! she yelled into the comm. "Put up a barrier at Junction Six Two Nine!"

"Acknowledged," said the dry AI voice. The gale suddenly trailed off, and Oriana slammed the hatch shut. Jack was already prowling through the little space they were in, which had a profusion of jets of vapor and trails of sparks flying through it. Oriana glanced up and realized that she could see stars. There was _hole_ in their ship, she could see right through it. There was nothing between her and the yawning void but the thin flexible composite of her suit. She almost panicked, but shut the feeling down. Jack would kick her butt into next week if she didn't focus.

The biotic in question was shutting off valves and tripping switches. She motioned to the other side of the space. "Get that side, Ennesby."

"Done," said Oriana, and the fact that she was acting did make her feel better. She moved without thinking, grateful for the endless training and drills that they'd put her through. Now, she didn't have to think. She just had to act. Oriana watched her own hands move as if they were directed by some distant puppetmaster. She gripped a valve handle and moved it, then moved on towards a nearby circuit breaker. The main thing that worried her was a few jagged shards of metal that hung down from the ceiling and threatened to snag her suit. But within a minute, they had the place cleared of any big problems.

Jack smacked her shoulder with the back of her hand, but it was a friendly slap. "Attagirl, Ennesby. Now let's keep moving."

There was a collapsed section in front of them. Oriana dropped to her hands and knees and saw that there was a clear way through the wreckage, but it was just big enough for them to crawl through single-file. Jack took the lead, and Oriana followed. She could just see the boots of the biotic in the gloom as they crawled forward.

Shepard clicked into the main comm channel. "All hands, Collector ship has broken off the engagement and entered FTL flight. Damage control teams continue your work and report when possible."

They continued to wriggle forward. Oriana was glad that she didn't suffer from claustrophobia; this would have been real torture otherwise. She could just make out a brighter patch of light ahead through the twisted conduits and metal beams. They must be coming up on another open area. As Jack edged forward, she gave a surprised yelp. The biotic began floating up into the space, towards another gaping hole in the ceiling.

Oriana lunged forward without thinking and managed to snag one of Jack's boots. The force of her lunge also carried her forward, and she felt a little lurch in her stomach at the same time. Some of the gravity generators must have failed. She was being dragged out into open space behind Jack. Oriana dug her boots downward and felt the toe of one of them snag on a protruding bit of debris. She felt a yank throughout her body as she stopped dead, and fortunately she managed to keep ahold of Jack's foot. The biotic dangled for a bit, then twisted and grabbed ahold of a nearby bit of twisted pipe.

"I'm good," said Jack. "And thanks."

Oriana just nodded, forgetting that such a gesture wasn't really visible in her bulky suit, and let go of Jack's boot. They clambered around the interior of the space, but there was nothing here that required immediate attention.

"Alert," said EDI over the comm. "Some sections may have lost gravity. Damage control teams use caution."

" _Now_ she tells us," muttered Oriana.

Jack gave a whoop of a laugh.

* * *

Shepard stormed into the hangar, with Garrus trailing some distance behind. Donnelly was already sporting a sizable shiner, and Jacob was hobbling as if his left knee wasn't working properly. Miranda was pressed against the shuttle with her hands up in a surrendering posture. Jacob was all that stood between her and the furious bulk of the Chief Engineer.

"It was you, wasn't it Miranda?" snarled Donnelly. His hands were balled into fists at his side. "You're the reason our shields went down. Fucking bastards. Can't trust Cerberus at-fucking-all. I shoulda taken you apart back on Illium, you _bitch_."

"It wasn't her!" yelled Jacob. "Come on, Marcus-"

"FOOK you! I'm the only thing that's been standing between Jack and yer goddamn girlfriend. I say the word and Jack will rip her apart like fookin' fresh bread."

"I won't let you," panted the armorer. There was a definite set to his features that reminded Shepard of the Jacob of old.

Donnelly sneered. "You think so? Let's find out, you cocky little gob-shite." He squared his shoulders and beckoned with one meaty hand. "Come on then, if yer hard enough!"

"DONNELLY!" roared Shepard. "STAND DOWN!" He saw the engineer's shoulders drop as the big man breathed in and out. Finally, after the longest pause, Donnelly moved aside.

"Yes, Commander," he said. He put his hands behind his back. "Sorry, sir."

Shepard looked at Jacob. It was a look that dared the armorer to move a single muscle. Jacob, not being an idiot, stayed perfectly still. Garrus took up position near the hangar door entrance. His rifle wasn't pointing at anyone...yet.

"Okay," continued Shepard. "I was going to ask our Chief Engineer how the hell our kinetic shields managed to get compromised at a very important point during a battle. Then I find out that he's left his post and gone on a rampage down here. Now that said rampage is _over,_ can you enlighten me on the shields, Marcus?"

Donnelly's voice was tight but composed. "Tali's digging into it further, but somehow there was a trojan piece of code in the new shield generator software."

Shepard opened his mouth but was forestalled by Donnelly's raised hand. "I know, I know," continued the engineer. "We scanned everything during the refit, there wasn't anything then." He shot Miranda and Jacob a furious glance. "If I had a guess, there were probably small pieces of code fragments distributed among the various sub-components of the new shields. Nothing that would show up as malicious to our scans. They then reassembled themselves into the full trojan code after the refit was over. All it would take would be the right codeword and poof, no more shields. It was such a slick piece of work that it has to be Cerberus." Donnelly pointed one thick finger at Miranda. "And who here would have the right codeword, huh? Who would Mr. Illusive Man trust?"

There was a long silence. "Shepard-" began Miranda.

"Shut up," said Shepard absently. His mind was working the problem over, trying to see the possible plays. "No. I can see Cerberus installing a backdoor into our shield system, that's par for the course for those fuckwits. But I don't think this is Miranda's fault."

"What!" Donnelly tensed himself.

"Easy, Marcus," said Garrus from his vantage point. "I like you. That's why I'll aim for the leg. But I _will_ shoot you if you move."

"EDI," said Shepard. "Were you aware of this trojan code in our shield software?"

"Obviously not, sir. I would have told you otherwise."

"That's what I thought. Would it be possible for Ms. Lawson to be told about the trojan and given the trigger code for it without your knowledge?"

"It.." EDI paused, and Shepard knew she was rechecking message logs. "It is possible, but certainly not probable. I estimate a probability of less than one-third of one percent that such knowledge would escape me. After all, Cerberus passed all communications through me during that time period."

Shepard looked over at his Chief Engineer. "Well, Donnelly?"

Donnelly looked down and nodded. He slumped against a nearby crate. "Fook. If it wasn't her, then who was it?"

Miranda relaxed, although her face was still set in fright. She clearly knew that she was about one step away from breathing hard vacuum. Jacob sat with a little groan. "Maybe it triggered on its own," he said. "You know, they could have set it up so that it would operate if it _didn't_ receive a codeword every so often."

The engineer shook his head. "No, it didn't look like that. It was very simple. Get codeword, shut down the shields. Anything more complex and it would have been more likely for us to pick up."

"I believe I may have an answer," said EDI. "I am going through the datalogs of our most recent encounter, and it appears that there was a transmission from the Collector ship after our initial attack. It was a very fast 'blip', on the order of nanoseconds, and I did not catch it until now. That transmission was when our shield problems began."

Jacob looked puzzled. "The Collectors put the trojan code in? That makes no sense."

"Indeed not, Mr. Taylor," replied EDI. "If the Collectors had agents infiltrated that far into Terminus space, then they would have simply sabotaged the core and blown up the _Normandy_. I am also in the middle of a full-scale analysis with Tali, and it appears that the code has certain earmarks that appear in other similar malicious code from Cerberus."

Donnelly's anger faded as he relaxed into that thousand-yard-stare he got when problem-solving. "Okay, so it's a Cerberus backdoor. So did they give the Collectors the code for it? Did we piss them off that much?"

Shepard shook his head. "No way. TIMmy's a fanatic when it comes to the safety of humanity. He wouldn't help the Collectors even a little bit. Besides, he needs the _Normandy_. Or rather, he needs EDI. Having the Collectors blow us up won't get her back."

"I guess it's nice to be wanted," said the AI. "But I suppose it is possible the Collectors have agents infiltrated into Cerberus. At present I can't determine how it was done."

"The Shadow Broker," said Miranda. Shepard looked at her and saw a version of Miranda that hadn't been there for a while. Now the cold and calculating Cerberus operative was back. "Sir, you know that Liara T'Soni helped us recover your body for the Lazarus project."

"Yeah." Shepard put his hands on his hips and waited for her to continue. He didn't like to be reminded of just how utterly dead he'd been.

Miranda continued. "There were others after you as well. They were agents of the Shadow Broker, and from what Cerberus figured out they were intending to turn you over to the Collectors. That means the Shadow Broker is working for the Collectors, and if anyone could infiltrate Cerberus it would be his organization." Miranda paused. "Well, there is one other group currently in conflict with Cerberus that could also pull off an infiltration. But there's no way that the Organization would be working for the Collectors."

"I agree with Ms. Lawson," said EDI. "The Shadow Broker fits all of the available data."

Donnelly was finally looking completely calm. "All right, so Mr. Clever-Arse Shadow Broker is behind it." Then he looked worried. "But the shields could be only the start. We could have all sorts of nastiness built in by Cerberus all over the ship. Things that EDI doesn't know about."

"A small likelihood, Marcus," said EDI. "I estimate less than half a percent chance."

"That's still too much of a chance," said Shepard. "So. First, we make sure the shield software is clean. And then I want every available hand mustered, and we're going over the _Normandy_ inch by inch. I want a full manual check of every compartment."

"That's going to take a while," said Garrus.

"We need to get our hull repaired anyway," replied Shepard. "Christ, I don't know how we're going to be able to do that without blowing up our budget."

"And we need to deal with the Shadow Broker mole within Cerberus," added Miranda. "They could still be leaking details of the _Normandy's_ construction and our refit right to the Collectors."

"Fuck. Yeah, you're right." said Shepard. He gave Miranda a narrow look. "Let me guess, you're volunteering for that particular task."

Miranda didn't falter as she nodded. "Yes. It makes the most sense. I know Cerberus protocols and command structures. I also have several different points of contact in the Shadow Broker's network. I can track down where the leaks are coming from, and plug it."

"I don't like it," said Donnelly. "Why give her a chance to go back to her people?"

She snorted. "My people? If Cerberus gets ahold of me they'll make me wish I'd never been born. So this is literally the last thing I want to do. I'm probably going to die while attempting it. But it needs to be done."

The Commander walked away from them all. He could feel their eyes on his back as he pondered. There weren't any really 'great' options in front of him, just various flavors of 'suck'. "Embrace the suck," he muttered to himself, then turned back.

He used his Command Voice this time. "Right. Miranda, you're assigned to find the Shadow Broker's mole. Jacob, you're with her. I don't have to tell you to both be careful. We also need to call a general meeting of all hands. We've got some of the most devious motherfuckers in the galaxy on board, and I want options on how to repair our damn ship without winding up broke. Dismissed."

* * *

Garrus leaned forward and grabbed the clawed foot of the dead Collector. "This one's body looks more or less intact," he said over his helmet comm as he tugged the foot. The corpse drifted out of the cubbyhole that it had died in and tumbled into the stark sunlight of hard vacuum. Garrus gave another tug and it stopped moving relative to him.

"Excellent news!" said Mordin over the general channel. "Have been wanting to get samples of Collector tissue for some time."

The turian looked past the Collector's body and towards the distant delta-winged shape of the _Normandy_. They had parked by the chunk that had been sliced off of the Collector ship during their ambush. There were several other groups swarming over the chunk and trying to grab what bits of tech and bodies they could.

Garrus gave a frustrated little rattle of his mandibles as he looked at the frigate. The little scrapes that been on its top since Illium were now overlaid with several deep gashes that cut deep into her hull. That was not a simple fix, he thought gloomily. This was going to cost a boatload.

* * *

Donnelly sat still while Jack put antiseptic and a bandage over the cut near his eye. "You know, I'm the one who's supposed to go running off to punch things at the drop of a hat." Her voice sounded a little distant as she worked. Donnelly was finally back in his quarters after a seemingly endless stretch of coordinating the damage control teams.

"I got mad," he said to Jack. "We found that code, and I just knew that it was Miranda."

"That still doesn't explain it. Were you trying to get a little payback for me?"

"It wasn't that! Well, I guess it was a little bit. I was also worried that she could be doing more sabotage."

Jack finished applying the bandage and moved behind him on the narrow bunk. She hugged him gently around his chest. "You know I can fight my own battles. And you took a big chance. I hate She-Bitch, but I also know she's not someone to mess with casually. She could have killed you without breaking a sweat. The only reason she didn't fight back is because she knew the Commander would pitch her into the airlock if she did."

"Yeah, but-"

She brought one hand up and put a finger on his lips. "Shh. Listen, I'm serious. A lotta times, I don't think through things so well and I go off half-cocked. That's why you've gotta be smarter. I know you're a clever bastard, so be one for both of us."

Donnelly smiled. That last word made him feel much better. He reached his hand behind him and rubbed Jack's shaved head. "Us?"

"Mmm hmm." She snuggled her head into his back. "It's like you said. Where else am I gonna find somebody who puts up with my crap?"

* * *

The display over the CIC showed the orange hologram of the _Normandy_ , but now there was a lot of long and ugly red scars along the top of her hull. Donnelly scratched his head and looked around at the assembled 'tiger team' of aforementioned 'devious motherfuckers'. "It'll take at least a couple of weeks to get it back in working order. And something like a metric ton of armor. Figure about one point five million credits, all told."

"Eeesh," said Joker. He had nominated himself a 'tiger team' member in spite of his lack of devious-motherfucker background. The pilot insisted that he be a part of any plan that involved repairing his 'baby'. "That's a chunk of change."

"How much can we cut back on that cost?" asked Shepard. "What if we use less material, and just plug the holes?"

"It's an option," replied Tali. "We could cut the cost in half by just using sheet metal and doing the crudest of patch jobs. It won't be pretty, even by Migrant Fleet standards. But if anything so much as bumps us we'll be in big trouble."

Shepard rubbed his chin. "And we're definitely going into combat, so...yeah, that's out. Maybe we can acquire the hull armor through other means?" He looked across the display at Kasumi with a raised eyebrow.

The thief shook her head. "We can't just steal the new hull material."

Garrus gave her a turian grin. "I thought you could steal anything." He sidled closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. Kasumi purred and leaned into him.

Joker rolled his eyes. "I never thought I'd see you try to sweet talk anybody, Garrus. I thought you'd just threaten to beat-"

"Beat them with the stick up my ass, yeah, yeah. You need to get new material, Joker."

"Everybody likes the classics! So why can't we steal it, Ghost Girl? I thought you could break in anywhere."

Kasumi gave him an exasperated look. "Yes, you little snot. I can break in anywhere. And then what? I deal in small, high-value items. The largest physical object I ever stole was that painting in my lounge. So how exactly am I supposed to abscond with a ton's worth of armor plating? Stick it in my shoe?"

"Well, Garrus has lots of experience holding things up his-"

"NEW MATERIAL, JOKER!" they all chorused.

Tali crossed her arms and tapped one foot on the deck. "We could be overthinking it. We could try some surreptitious hacking to reroute some armor material. I know of...certain tricks the Migrant Fleet has used when we've had raw material shortages."

"It's possible," said Kasumi. "But we're not exactly anonymous. We couldn't show up to claim it. We'd have to hire somebody else to pick up the material and deliver it to us, and trust them not to just take the money and run. That sort of plan will have a lot of moving parts. I hate a lot of moving parts."

Garrus began tapping on the terminal in front of him. "Let's work it from the other end. Let's find out where we could possibly get the armor, then figure out how best to get it."

"We could try barter," said Donnelly. "Sort of like the wee job we did for Aria. But somethin' like this...we're gonna need a drydock. Any favor we have to do will probably wind up being a lot of time and effort."

Shepard addressed the ceiling. "EDI, do you have any input?"

"I do, Shepard. I have been accessing all news feeds looking for potential problems we could solve, similar to what Marcus just suggested. There is an interesting situation that has arisen on the asari colony of Zesmeni, near Illium."

"That didn't show up on my search," said Garrus. "Do they manufacture armor?"

The central hologram of the _Normandy_ vanished and was replaced by a schematic of a small rocky planet. Several settlements were outlined with red circles on its surface. "This is Zesmeni," said EDI. "They provide much of the heavy mining and industry in the region surrounding Illium. It is also one of the few places that manufacture Silaris heavy ship armor."

"Wow," said Tali. "That would be amazing material to get ahold of. But way too expensive."

Garrus nodded. "Plus they don't sell that stuff to anybody but asari. That's why it didn't show up on my searches."

"Right now, they aren't selling armor to anybody," replied EDI with a smug tone. "There's been an outbreak of Herldon fever in the colony, and the planet is under quarantine."

Shepard ran a hand through his hair. "How does that help us? Oh. Right, I'm an idiot. Mordin could cure that in his sleep."

"I'm not sure he does sleep, Shepard," said Donnelly. "But yes, we could do a quid-pro-quo of armor and labor for helping them not all die."

"We're still not asari," added Tali.

The Commander got a big grin on his face. "No, we have something even better. A Justicar. If she makes the request, they'll be falling over themselves to help her out." His grin faded. "I guess I'd better ask Samara before we really go through with it. She did say she'll do whatever I ask, but she also said she'd kill me afterwards if I made her do something dishonorable. I'd rather avoid that."

Garrus looked up from his terminal. "Yeah, you might want to check. But if we do go through with this, there's another piece of good news. it looks like there's plenty of traffic in and out of that place, assuming we get the fever outbreak cured. It'll be a perfect place to drop off Miranda and Jacob for their mission."


	36. You Can Never Hold Back Spring

As it turned out, Samara was perfectly fine with using her status to get the Zesmeni deal in place. She told Shepard that throwing her weight around was allowed in the Justicar Code, provided that innocent lives were in danger. And in this case there were two groups of innocents in peril; the asari on Zesmeni that were sick, and the human colonists being targeted by the Collectors.

They had managed to dodge the quarantine and then make contact with the necessary authorities. There had been no hesitation on the part of the asari to make the deal. The opportunity to solve their health crisis and end the quarantine, plus help out a Justicar in the process? Mordin's help was accepted with alacrity.

And now Donnely and Samara were down on Zesmeni to finalize the trade. Mordin had already been down on the planet for some time, and he'd been busy at work in setting up clinics and a general process for blunting the spread of the plague. This was trickier than what he'd done on Omega. There was no common ventilation system with which to dispense any healing agents.

Donnelly handed their asari contact a datapad. "So this is what we need for the plating. Are the shapes going to be a problem?"

The Zesmeni representative began paging through the technical drawings. "I don't believe so. The size is no problem, but the curvatures...let me double-check right now. I need to make a few calls." She moved off towards the other side of the lounge, activated her omni-tool, and began speaking in a low voice.

Donnelly looked over at Samara. "I can't thank you enough for agreeing to this. Once we get this armor installed, we'll be practically able to ram the Collectors instead of shoot them."

Samara gave a little shrug. "It was necessary."

A pleasant tenor voice came from outside the docking bay lounge. " _I've got a little list, I've got a little list, of society offenders who might well be underground, and who never would be missed, who never would be missed!_ " The door opened, and Donnelly was surprised to see Mordin walk in. He gave them both a cheerful wave. "Greetings! All finished here."

"Jesus and the saints," said Donnelly. "You're done already? It's only been a few days."

"Thirty-six hours," replied Mordin. "Plenty of time. Set up vaccination protocols, coordinated overall strategy with local health care workers, also formulated effective treatment for symptoms for those already infected. Spread is already stopped, and vaccinations to protect rest of populace well in hand."

The asari came back over. "We're all set. The curvatures are no problem. We'll be running the necessary mass effect treatments on the carbon nanotube preforms over the next day or so, and we'll start installing the plating right after that."

"Thank you again," said Samara. The asari didn't respond verbally. She just gave Samara a quick nod and hurried out the door.

Donnelly blinked in surprise. "That was a bit rude. Did I say something to make her mad?"

Samara sighed. "No. It's me, I'm afraid. There are many tales and stories of Justicar deeds, and many young maidens dream of performing feats of daring while clad in red armor. But the bitter truth is that none of my kind are truly happy to see a Justicar. We always bring trouble, or so they think."

"Ah, I see." Donnelly wasn't sure what to say to that.

Samara's mood didn't improve during the shuttle ride back up to the _Normandy_. She sat on the bench next to Donnelly and stared at the deck with a fixed expression. He finally decided to say something as they were walking through the hangar. "Are you okay, Samara? You know you can talk to me if you need to."

Samara shook her head. "Thank you, but I will be all right. There are times when continuing my oaths seems like an intolerable burden. But it will pass, as it always does."

Donnelly almost clapped her jovially on the shoulder, but then thought better of it. He liked having a functional hand instead of a bloody stump. "Well...it could be worse, right? You could be dead." He paused. "Actually, you _were_ dead back on Illium, or so I heard."

Samara stopped dead in her tracks, and Donnelly did as well with a little bit of surprise. He saw the Justicar's head snap up to gaze at him. Donnelly felt a little tingle in the pit of his stomach. Had he said something wrong? Mordin peered at them both curiously from Samara's other side.

"Yes," said Samara. She had a look on her face of...wonder? It was very different from the composed and aloof air she normally exuded. "I _was_ dead, wasn't I?"

"Absolutely!" said Mordin in a far too cheerful manner. "Completely dead. Total heart failure. If in clinic, would have personally signed death certificate myself." He paused and his smile faded a bit. "Must have been nervous system interface with Jack that restored heartbeat," he muttered. "Yes, must have been that. Otherwise impossible."

Samara's face lit up with a wide smile, the most gleeful expression that Donnelly had ever seen from her. And all the while she stared fixedly at his face. "Marcus!" she cried. "My dear sweet Marcus!" The Justicar moved towards him while still wearing that odd, gleeful smile.

He held up a hand. "Er, now look Samara, you're a fine and bonny lass, but I'm spoken for. Heh. Dunno how possessive Jack is, and I don't wanna find oot the hard way, if ye ken my..." he trailed off as she brushed aside his intervening hand. Samara was just as tall as him, and he stared into her piercing blue eyes as she brought her head close. He felt his heart skip a beat as her lips met his for a soft and gentle kiss.

She gave him a wink and then turned and pointed at Mordin. "And you!"

Mordin looked behind him as if hoping someone else might have appeared behind him. "Problem? Have given offense? None intended. Focused on work, tend to miss social cues and nicetiesUULMPH..."

Samara grabbed the front of the salarian's tunic with both of her hands and lifted him bodily off of the floor. His legs dangled as she gave him a much longer and far deeper kiss that she'd given Donnelly. Mordin's face blushed green as he mumbled protests into Samara's mouth. After a minute of ravishing, she gently set him down.

"Gentlemen," she said, and gave them another room-lighting smile. "I thank you both, from the bottom of my heart."

She was out of the hangar entrance before Donnelly remembered to breathe again.

Mordin spluttered and wiped his mouth. "Very trying at times, possessing such raw animal charisma. Have had similar issues with turians. And krogans."

* * *

Shepard hummed a little ditty as he read through the report from Mordin on his fever treatment strategy. The Commander was feeling good for the first time since the attack on the Collector ship. Being well on the way to having an intact ship again was a big part of the reason for his good mood. Not to mention that he would be getting Miranda and Jacob out of his hair. It wasn't personal on Shepard's part, but he knew that most of the crew would be happier without them around. Especially among the 'tattooed biotic criminal' demographic. Off to his right, Kelly was finalizing the week's budget figures. He was really proud of the young woman. She'd stepped up considerably in the last few weeks. He smiled as he regarded the hologram of the _Normandy_ above the CIC display. Soon those ragged red wounds would be gone.

As long as nothing _weird_ happened, they should be okay.

As if summoned by his thought, he heard the elevator door hiss open behind him. Some sixth sense told him this was going to be something...weird. He turned, half-expecting to see a Reaper facing him while giving him the finger.

But there was no bio-mechanoid berserker. The elevator only contained Samara. But now she looked somehow different as she walked towards Shepard. Before, she had worn her ageless beauty like a mask, and clearly didn't care if anybody noticed her appeal. Now, however, she was inhabiting that beauty and using it for all it was worth. She actually sashayed her hips as she reached the Commander.

Beside him, he heard Kelly drop her datapad in shock.

"Shepard," she purred. "The new armor is on its way. It is my understanding that it will take at least a week to install it."

He finally found his voice. "Er, yes, about that long."

Samara nodded with a sultry little look. Was she about to kiss him?

"In that case," she said, "I would like to request a four-day leave of absence. Starting immediately."

"I, ah, yes, sure. Sure! That's no problem." Shepard's mind whirled. Who the hell was this, and what had they done with the real Samara?

"And you will do the same for Ms. Chambers," added the Justicar.

"Me?" squeaked Kelly.

Samara turned to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Dearest heart, I confess I saw more than I should have that time in the hangar. I also confess that I feel the same affection for you. If...if you still feel that way about me, of course."

Kelly looked like she was going to either faint, explode with happiness, or both. "Yes! Of course I do, Samara."

In response the justicar leaned down and gave Kelly an open-mouthed kiss that looked like she wanted to simply eat up the yeoman right then and there. Kelly slumped against her console in bliss as the deep kiss went on. Somewhere in the back of his mind Shepard knew that Joker would be so _pissed_ at him for not getting pictures of this. Samara broke the kiss reluctantly, then straightened up and looked back at Shepard with a more determined expression.

He suddenly realized that he had better go with the flow for now or he would be very quickly locked in mortal combat with a thousand-year-old warrior monk. "Of course, four days leave for Kelly as well. Um, let me know if either of you need...anything..."

After his uttering the word 'sure' Samara had seized Kelly's hand in an unbreakable grip and towed her towards the elevator. The yeoman stumbled along behind Samara in a daze and gave Shepard a dazzling smile over her shoulder. Samara was already reaching for her again as the elevator doors closed.

Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. When weird shit was going down, there was one reliable place to start digging. "EDI, please tell Chief Engineer Donnelly to report to the CIC right _fucking_ now."

* * *

"Commander, how can you _possibly_ think I had anythin' to do with this?"

Shepard regarded Donnelly sourly. "Because you are an agent of chaos that has been cloaked in human flesh and sent into this world to vex me. And because you were one of the last people with Samara down on Zesmeni. Now...what happened to her? What did you do?"

"Nothing! Nothing happened, and I didn't do anything but talk to her. Look, get Mordin in here. He'll tell you the same thing. He was there too."

"Of course he was," muttered Shepard. "Why am I not surprised?" He turned to the intercom, but it buzzed before he could reach it.

"Commander! What's got into Samara?" yelled Sergeant Gardner out of the comm. "She just threw me right out of the starboard lounge! Literally! Ah, my neck..."

"Was Kelly with her?" snapped Shepard.

"Hell yes, Kelly was wrapped around her and they were all over each other. Samara saw me standing there and before I could say anything she grabbed me with one arm and gave me the heave-ho right out of the damn door. Samara's locked down the lounge, should I scramble a security team?"

"Not yet. Report to Dr. Chakwas, get your neck looked at." He cut the channel and connected to Mordin's lab. "Mordin. Get in here."

Mordin was there in less than thirty seconds. The salarian was prompt, Shepard would give him that much. The doctor looked at them both with a cheerful goggle-eyed expression. "Ah. Suspect this is regarding Samara's recent behavioral change? Yes, most unusual."

"Unusual, yeah," grated Shepard. "Did she eat or drink anything down on Zesmeni? Could somebody have drugged her?"

Mordin shook his head. "No, Samara down there just to finalize deal. Use of gas agent also unlikely. Even if someone using compound tailored to asari, too much risk of collateral damage."

Donnelly gestured to the salarian with both hands. "See? Nothing! All we did was talk a bit after we got the armor deal all squared away."

Shepard walked down off of the dais and grabbed the front of Donnelly's coverall. "And what. Did you. Talk. About?"

"She was _sad_ , that's all!" Donnelly looked like he was about to crawl out of his skin this close to his furious Commander. "We got the armor specs all clear, and then the Zesmeni lass ran off suddenly and Samara was bein' all sad that nobody really liked to see Justicars. And I said it was better than bein' dead. And that's when she started actin' all weird."

"Not entirely accurate," said Mordin. Donnelly gave him a panicked look. He was clearly expecting to get thrown under the proverbial bus. "Chief Engineer also mentioned that Samara had indeed expired during Illium operations." His eyes widened in realization. "And provided corroboration, told her would have signed death certificate."

Shepard and Mordin locked eyes. They both had the same thought at the same time, and then they both relaxed and said "Ohhhh!" simultaneously.

Donnelly held his hands out, palms up. "What? What am I missing?"

"The Justicar Code," replied Shepard. He let go of Donnelly and leaned back. "The Code states that upon taking their oaths, a Justicar is required to follow that Code until death. And Samara officially died. So she's finished fulfilling her oaths."

The engineer dropped his hands. "Oh. But surely that's just a technicality?"

"The Justicar Code is nothing but one big technicality." Shepard rubbed his forehead. "But now I feel much more comfortable about the whole thing. I was afraid that Samara had somehow been converted into an Ardat-Yakshi."

"What's an-"

"Marcus, trust me when I say that you do _not_ want to know."

Donnelly stared off into space. "Samara's not a Justicar anymore. So she doesn't have to follow their rules about relationships. That's why she grabbed Kelly. Well, they were always sweet on each other." He looked back at his Commander with dawning horror. "Sweet Christ, Shepard! Samara hasn't been laid in _four hundred years!_ She's gonna _break_ the wee lass!"

Shepard held up a hand. "I trust Samara's self control. And Kelly has been dealing with a much bigger workload recently so she could use a vacation as well." He looked up. "EDI, are Kelly and Samara currently engaged?"

"Engaged, Shepard?" asked the AI.

Donnelly cleared his throat. "Are there sexy-time shenanigans going on, EDI?"

There was a brief pause. "Based on my automatic bio-monitoring, I feel it is safe to say that they are well past mere shenanigans, Marcus."

Shepard nodded. "Noted. EDI, if you could please use your bio-monitoring to gently break in the next time there is a, um, pause in the action. Send them both my compliments and tell them I'm adding an extra day to their leave."

"Understood, Shepard. Logging out."

Mordin blinked. "Very glad salarian reproduction does not involve such behavior. Seems very complicated and time-wasting. Research involves less candles and mood music. Ah, almost forgot, have important news. Have finished scans of Collector tissue samples. Very surprising results. Can show you in lab."

* * *

"They're Protheans?"

Mordin grasped his lapels proudly and nodded at Shepard's surprised expression. "Most certainly. EDI has been invaluable help." He gestured to the half-dissected Collector corpse on the table in between them. "She was able to match genetic scans with data from known Prothean tissue samples. Definite match."

Shepard rubbed the back of his head. The Prothean Cipher imprinted into his brain, combined with the warning message he'd received from their beacons, had given him the ability to speak and read Prothean. He also had a decent sense of what the Protheans had looked like. But this Collector...didn't, not really.

"I mean, the basic shape might be the same," he said to Mordin. "But this thing's skin is all wrong. And the eyes. And, well, a lot of it's just plain wrong."

Mordin indicated several different areas where he'd made deep incisions into the body. "Yes. Should have been more accurate. Collectors are Protheans _afte_ r many, many generations of subservience to Reapers. Note multiple cybernetic implants here and over here. No reproductive organs, replaced by tech. No real higher brain functions, Prothean frontal lobes have been replaced by control circuitry. This is body of pure drone."

Shepard looked for a long while at the corpse. "This is what the Reapers have planned for us if they succeed."

"At best," said Mordin. "Assume Reapers only create one 'proxy' species such as this every cycle. All other species simply destroyed." He also looked at the body for a long while. "Protheans were mightiest last cycle, so they were 'honored' like this." Shepard could hear the hate and disgust in the salarian's voice. "Wonder who will be so 'honored' this next cycle."

"No one," said Shepard. "Because there will be no more cycles. I'm ending it." He straightened up and gave the doctor a nod. "Thank you, Mordin. I needed to see this. I needed to remember what's ultimately at stake. Put a report together and distribute it to the crew. They need to know what's coming for everyone if we fail."

* * *

Kelly smiled at the stars beyond the viewport as she lay naked in front of it. Her head was propped up on Samara's bare stomach. The now-apparently-ex-Justicar was equally naked and gently snoring as she slept. A thin trail of drool ran down one blue-skinned cheek.

What Kelly had just experienced had been amazing, although that was still too paltry of a word. After that hungry kiss in the CIC and the asari's one-handed removal of Sergeant Gardner from the lounge, Kelly had expected Samara to simply tear her clothes off and pounce on her like a succubus. Not that Kelly would have minded that in the least.

But after locking the lounge door, Samara had been almost hesitant as she proceeded. She had slowly undressed Kelly, taking the time to caress every section of newly uncovered skin. It was as if she was seeing somebody's naked body for the first time and savoring the experience. Samara's touch had made Kelly a quivering lump by the time the yeoman was fully naked.

Samara had then stood and spread her arms, offering herself. Without a word Kelly realized that she should do the same for the asari. She had gone through the same process, slowing removing every bit of Samara's red armor and carefully stroking her flawless blue skin as it was revealed. The last two articles of clothing to go were Samara's choker and her tiara. Kelly had removed the choker and saw the one flaw in her skin, the small white scar of the dart attack that had nearly killed her. She had tenderly kissed that scar, then raised her hands and removed Samara's tiara. Kelly then stood on tiptoe to kiss her now-bare forehead.

They had stood facing each other for the longest moment, now both naked. Samara's skin had been flushed deep blue with her arousal, and Kelly herself felt like her nipples could cut glass. Then they had embraced, their mouths meeting and tongues entwining.

Kelly's previous experience with asari was that they tended to go right for the Joining after getting naked and 'breaking the ice', so to speak. But Samara had been in no hurry. She had almost mercilessly played Kelly like an instrument, wringing gasps and cries and a couple of orgasms out of her. And Kelly had done her best to reciprocate, trying to use every trick she'd learned to stimulate the asari's own azure. Samara had seemed pleased with the attention and had shuddered with her own climax.

And then at the last, when they were both sweaty and tangled in a heap in front of the viewport, Samara had held Kelly's head and looked deep into her eyes. Kelly saw the asari's pupils dilate and keep dilating, making her eyes completely black.

"Embrace Eternity," she had whispered to Kelly. And then they had Joined.

That was the part that Kelly was still trying to sort out in her head. Her previous Joinings with other asari had been wonderful, joyous things. But now she knew they had been paltry in comparison. Really, her previous experience had just been two brains getting together to say 'Yay! We're having sex!'.

The Joining with Samara had been deeper. Much, much deeper. She had felt Samara's crushing despair that had always been lurking below that seemingly unflappable exterior. She felt the grief from Samara that she still carried at having to take her own child's life. And as for Kelly, she had felt herself pour into Samara. All of her self-doubt and fear, the horrible treatment she'd endured at the hands of her mother, all of her determination to help others, and the knowledge of her own deep-rooted problems resulting from all of it. They had been laid bare before each other, more than naked, and they had both accepted each other.

Kelly carefully stood, trying not to wake Samara. She walked towards the viewport and looked out at the gray-green marble of Zesmeni stretching below them. The yeoman leaned her head against the viewport and smiled at how random the universe could be. The Justicar Code was an inflexible thing, but that very inflexibility had delivered Samara to her.

She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. "Hello, dearest heart. I agree, it's a lovely view." Samara's arm came around Kelly's shoulders and upper chest, holding her tight. Kelly could feel Samara's perfect breasts press into her back. The statuesque asari's chin rested easily on top of Kelly's head.

Samara's other hand trailed down Kelly's stomach and then cupped her mound. It wasn't an erotic touch, more of a possessive one. It was as if the asari was saying _This is mine. I own this_. Kelly could agree with that sentiment. There had been a yearning inside her for the longest time, and for the longest time Kelly had thought that new experiences with people would fill that yearning. But now that need was sated, and she felt at peace. She leaned back into Samara's embrace and sighed.

Kelly's peace was interrupted by a thudding of booted feet kicking the lounge door. Jack's yelling easily carried through the thick metal. "WOOOO HOOOO! YEAH! WAY TO GO, BLUE! YOU GET YOU SOME! YOU FUCKING MURDER THAT PUSSY! GO TO TOOOOWN!"

They both began to shake with laughter. "Well," said Samara, "far be it from _me_ to argue with my protege." Her lower hand gently stroked inward, and Kelly felt herself melt into Samara's embrace.

* * *

"Synchronizing...and done. You should be able to feel it now." Oriana looked at the mechanism on the workbench. It was an ovoid shell about a half-meter long with several lenses on top and a long manipulator claw sticking out of its underside.

"This is your project for the spare tachyon coil?" asked Donnelly. He looked at it a little dubiously. "What is it?"

"A drone," replied Oriana. "But one suitable for onboard use. I thought EDI could use a set of mobile eyes in case there's somewhere inside the _Normandy_ she can't see. It uses mass effect fields to move around instead of rocket motors, and of course it's a lot smaller. But the principle is the same as the bigger ones we made. How does it feel, EDI?"

"It is meshing well with my overall logic structure," replied the AI. "Let me try moving it."

The drone leaped about ten centimeters off of the workbench and then stopped. It jerked in several different directions, never more than a few centimeters in any direction.

"Very nice," said EDI. "Crisp response, and I am getting good feedback from the drone's positioning sensors. Excellent work, Oriana."

"Aye," added Donnelly. "Quite impressive. And with the manipulator, we'll have an extra set of hands as well as eyes."

"Hands!" said EDI in a near whisper. "Yes, I have hands!" The manipulator clicked its claw together a few time. "Well, _one_ hand," added the AI. "But that is still one more than I had."

Oriana nodded "I thought it could be useful."

"Useful...yes, of course." EDI paused. "It will be useful, I'm sure." Then her voice got a gleeful tone. "But right now I have to find somebody. A certain smart-alec pilot who still thinks it's funny to put grease on the bridge cameras. I have to go find Mr. Smart-Alec and give that cute little ass of his a nice big pinch. We'll see how funny he finds that!"

The drone raised a little higher, clacked its manipulator once again, and then serenely cruised out of Engineering. Oriana and Donnelly looked at each other.

"Pictures," said Oriana. "The crew will want pictures."

Donnelly nodded, and they all but stampeded out of the room to follow the drone.

* * *

Tali had projected a huge image of the Omega Four relay on a bare wall of Kasumi's lounge. She'd asked Garrus and Shepard to have a look at her collated data and see what they could make of it. Kasumi had offered the use of her lounge wall, since it would give her an excuse to hang out with Garrus while 'on the clock'. They all watched the vid of the relay go through its various gyrations just before the Collector ship appeared.

"This is a composite image," said the quarian. "I've overlaid the activation protocol data that EDI recorded on top of the visual image so we can see what happens and when. I've also slowed it down to about ten percent of normal speed."

The relay's gigantic hoops whirled in a stately manner as false-color images of data streams flickered slowly back and forth over them. Tali pointed. "This is when we first started seeing activity from the relay."

"That's a lot more complicated than a standard activation protocol," said Garrus. He was sitting on the floor with Kasumi in front of him. She was sitting in between his spread legs. He was braiding Kasumi's hair while he watched the projection with a sniper's eye for detail.

"That was EDI's assessment as well," replied Tali. "It was also longer, about five seconds instead of the standard two."

"Can we replay it and slow it down more?" asked Kasumi. "I always thought a mass relay activation protocol was a just a two-step process. You ask the relay to go, and it says 'okay' and throws you to the next relay in the network."

"It's a little more complicated than that," said Shepard. "But yes, that's the basic idea." He pushed himself off of the viewport and walked forward, intently studying the image as Tali rewound it.

As they watched again, Garrus finished braiding Kasumi's hair and gave the top of her head a completely gratuitous caress with his fingers. "I see at least six more separate stages there," he said. "It reminds me of something. Something to do with security."

The four watched it in silence for a moment. Garrus' mandibles clacked in frustration; he was clearly trying to figure out what had triggered his intuition. Kasumi smiled. He just needed to get distracted and then the notion would come to him. She placed her hand on his thigh, then ran it up the outside of his leg to stroke his hip.

Garrus stiffened a bit. "Security!" he all but yelled. "Network security!" Tali and Shepard looked at him curiously. Kasumi's smile widened into a smug grin as she patted his hip.

"What does that mean?" asked Tali.

Garrus cleared his throat. "When you're passing data packets around in a network, if you want proper security you have to verify the source of the packet and also scan the packet itself before passing it on. Normally the mass relay system acts like a big 'unsecure' data network, and just passes ships around no matter what. But this looks to me like the Omega Four is seeking extra confirmation before allowing the jump."

Shepard nodded. "That would make it simpler. We always thought the Collectors had a big defense grid on the other side to shoot down ships coming through. But that seemed kind of unwieldy to me, since a determined enemy could just send through a whole bunch of drones and swamp their defenses."

Tali crossed her arms and tapped one foot as she thought. "So if you don't give it the right 'friendly' ID, then what?"

Shepard shrugged. "Maybe it just shoots you into intergalactic space. The Omega Four relay is bigger than the standard, so it probably has increased range. Or the relay just dissociates your ship into component atoms. Either way, you wind up dead."

Kasumi sat up. "EDI, what do you make of this? Can we 'spoof' the relay, and send the proper identification?"

"I am currently re-analyzing all collected data using the 'network security' paradigm supplied by Garrus. I believe he is correct. It fits well with the observed Omega Four activation protocol. However, I do not think we will be able to use our measured data to create a believable 'friendly' identification. My analysis indicates that the ID signal is extremely complex. It would take me a long time to try to replicate it, and even then there would be no guarantee of success."

Shepard growled in frustration. "Dammit. EDI, do you think that the ID signal is something they generate on their end? Maybe they use AIs on their ships."

"I do not think one would need an entire AI for a single task like this. Current analysis indicates that this would be a dedicated piece of equipment."

Garrus nodded. "Yes, like a friend-or-foe transponder. Now how do we get ahold of one of those?"

"I have a possible way, Garrus," replied EDI. "I have been cross-correlating the twenty-two thousand recorded transmissions between the geth and Sovereign which were intercepted during the Battle of the Citadel, and comparing my analysis of those signals with the new Omega Four data. I currently have a ninety-two percent certainty that this 'transponder' is a piece of Reaper technology. I am still analyzing, so that statistic might improve."

The Commander's scowl relaxed. "Ah. So we just might be able to find one lying around somewhere. Good, we might salvage something useful out of this mess." He turned to Garrus and Kasumi. "You two, get with Miranda before she leaves. Make sure you have all of her data on Cerberus' Reaper research efforts. That's the first place we'll start. Go through all of it and see if they have anything which indicates they've turned up anything that could be our 'IFF transponder'. EDI, you'll also be helping them with that."

"Understood, Shepard. I will also continue my analysis to ensure that...THERE you are, you little snot! Hold still and get what's coming to you!"

The four in the lounge looked at each other. "Umm...EDI?" asked Tali. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Apologies," replied the AI smoothly. "Another subroutine of mine has completed, and has achieved what it set out to do." The AI sounded quite smug.

* * *

"Is it gone?" Joker peered with one eye around the corner of the elevator door. His face was slightly sweaty. Kelly strolled out with a blissful smile on her face. She glanced around casually as she walked to her station.

"Yeah, no sign of her."

Joker carefully hobbled out. "I just can't believe it. I thought we were friends."

"We are friends, Jeff," said EDI's voice from above. "But now we are friends on an equal footing in the 'hands' department. Do not worry, I have called off my drone for now."

"For now?" Joker didn't like the sound of that. "What do I have to do to keep it called off?"

"That is very simple, Jeff. I can tolerate most pranks, but the grease-on-the-camera-lens gag is now over. Understood?"

He looked around. The damn thing was small enough to be hiding anywhere. Joker was going to have words with Oriana, lots of words. "Yeah, sounds good."

"And you will leave Ms. Brewster out of this," continued EDI.

Joker resisted giving a guilty start. "Yeah, of course."

"And you will buy me a pony."

"What? Where am I gonna-"

"That was a joke. Logging out."

"Smart-ass AIs getting too big for their chrome britches..." Joker grumbled under his breath as he limped up to the cockpit. Shepard was already there in the copilot seat and gave him a casual wave as he reached his chair.

"They got some good pictures of when EDI found you," he told Joker. "Your face was priceless."

"Yeah, yeah. Pick on the crippled guy, story of my life."

"In a way, EDI was the cripple," replied Shepard. "You just never figured on her getting hands."

Joker held up his hands in surrender. "I know, I got it. Pranks are over, message received." He settled into his seat with a little groan. "Really, she didn't have to pinch so hard," he muttered.

Shepard smiled. Before he could reply, his console gave a buzz. Tali's face appeared in it. Joker had been around her long enough to pick up on her emotional cues, and he could tell she was seriously upset by the way her shoulders were hunched.

"Shepard," she said without greeting. "I have to go. Leave the _Normandy_ , I mean. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."

The Commander held up a hand. "Woah, Tali. What's up?"

She looked off to the side. "I'm...The Admiralty Board is holding a trial. They've accused me of treason."

Joker saw Shepard's face settle into the same mask of contained fury that he'd worn during the attack on the Collector ship. The Commander leaned forward. "They fucking _what_?"


	37. Telephone Call From Istanbul

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Oriana was surprised with herself at how concerned she was for Miranda.

Her 'big sister' nodded in reply. "Jacob and I have worked together plenty of times. We know how to watch each other's backs. Are _you_ going to be okay?" Miranda put a hand on her shoulder.

Jacob gave Oriana a guilty look over Miranda's shoulder. "Sorry, but we really should be going," he said.

Miranda nodded. "In a moment."

Oriana put her hand on top of her 'sister's'. "I'll be fine. More than fine. I have some of the deadliest people in the galaxy looking after me."

She saw Miranda look over her shoulder and stiffen in surprise. Oriana looked behind her and saw the last person she ever expected.

Jack slouched against the entrance to the hangar and gave them all an amused look. Then she pushed off of the bulkhead and walked towards them. Oriana wasn't sure what to do. She had a crazy notion to call EDI and tell her to get her drone in here, but what the machine could do against the biotic was anyone's guess.

Jack must have sensed her worry, because she looked at Oriana and winked. "Relax, Ennesby. Just seeing off some old friends."

"I see," said Miranda. She had removed her hand from Oriana's shoulder and had moved her body so that her right side faced Jack. Jacob was also standing ready with his arms at his sides.

Jack gave them both an amused look. "So you're really doing it. Sticking your hand into the lion's mouth. You know what Cerberus will do to you if they catch you?"

Miranda nodded. "Pretty much the same thing they were going to do to you."

The biotic gave a short, nasty laugh. "Yeah. I gotta give you credit for having some big brass ones, cheerleader. And you too, boy-toy."

Neither Miranda or Jacob replied. There was a sudden move from Jack, and Oriana flinched in spite of herself. But it was just Jack's hand, extended towards Miranda. She had a slight smirk on her tattooed face.

The former XO nodded and carefully shook Jack's hand. Then Jack extended the same hand to Jacob, who reluctantly shook it as well.

"See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya. Fuckers." Before anyone could blink, Jack had turned on her heel and was stalking out of the hangar. Once she was gone, Oriana took a long and ragged intake of breath.

Miranda and Jacob looked at each other. "That was our cue to get the hell out of here, I think," said Jacob. Miranda nodded, and they got into the shuttle. Oriana waited and raised a hand to bid farewell to the departing vehicle. She kept it raised until the _Normandy's_ hangar door closed. Then she went looking for Donnelly, and managed to buttonhole him as he was coming out of Engineering.

"Was that your idea?"

He looked genuinely puzzled. "Was what my idea?"

"Making Jack shake hands with Miranda."

She jerked back in surprise as Donnelly let loose a guffaw.

"Ha! Make Jack do something. That's rich. No, lass, I may have suggested to my wee daft scunner that she should understand how dangerous Miranda's mission is. But if she did anything it was on her own."

* * *

The Quarian liveship swelled in the forward windows. It had rapidly grown from a small sphere to a huge ornamented globe that blotted out the stars. Shepard had always wanted to see one of these ships, but not like this. He could feel Tali pacing behind him. Without looking, he knew that she would be wringing her hands together in a familiar nervous mannerism. It was something that he hadn't seen her do in quite a while.

"We've got a channel open," said Joker.

Tali stopped pacing and took a deep breath. "This is Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya, requesting permission to dock with the Rayya."

There was a slight pause before an almost mechanical-sounding quarian voice responded. "Our system has conflicting reports on your vessel. Some still have you flagged as Cerberus. Please verify."

Tali stepped up beside Shepard. "After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."

Another pause, and when the voice came back on it had ost its robotic quality. "Permission granted. Welcome home, Tali'Zorah."

Shepard could feel Tali's relief right through her mask. "We'd like a security and quarantine team to meet us. Our ship is not clean."

"Understood. Approach exterior docking cradle 17."

"Will do. Thank you." Tali nodded to Joker, who closed the channel. She turned to Shepard. "I can't thank you enough for getting me here. I'll let you know when the trial is-"

"Whoa, whoa," interrupted Shepard. "Sorry, but if you think I'm going to let one of my crew waltz into a dangerous situation by themselves then you're crazy." He gave her a little smile. "And I know you ain't crazy, lady."

Tali clasped her hands in front of her. "It's not dangerous, Shepard. Well, not physically dangerous. If I'm found guilty, I'll just be exiled."

"Not gonna happen," interjected Joker. His usually cheerful face was set in determination.

"I'm coming with you," added Shepard, and held up a hand to forestall her objection. "Yes, I am. Anybody who picks a fight with my crew picks a fight with me." He thought a little bit more. "We need somebody else. I'd prefer having an extra set of eyes to watch our backs. This is your ship we're going to. Whom do you recommend?"

Tali leaned back a little as she thought. "We need to keep a lower profile. You are an obvious choice to come along, being this ship's captain. And you cut an, um, impressive figure, so all eyes will be on you." She gave a vague up-and-down gesture at Shepard's body, and he smiled in spite of himself at her awkwardness.

"So if they're all looking at you," continued Tali, "then we need somebody they'll overlook. Kasumi is a little too obviously a sneaky-type. They'll be on guard against somebody like that. We need somebody small, but who punches 'way above their weight class' as Marcus would say. Yes...I think it should be Jack."

"Jack?" Shepard didn't bother to hide his surprise at Tali's choice. "You're getting along okay with her, then?"

Tali shrugged. "She's a...real sweetheart, once you get to know her."

* * *

Jack was now getting a taste of how the bucketheads lived. She was sealed up in her armor, which had been sanitized in the airlock as usual. But then there had been another round of scrubbing and washing and buffing inside of another portable chamber which had been attached to the outside of the _Normandy's_ airlock. After that, they had been pronounced 'sort of' clean enough and allowed to enter the ship proper.

The three of them were met by the Rayya's captain, a gangly guy in a beige-colored environmental suit. He was flanked by two guards who had rifles at the ready. Jack didn't like the look of that, and began to figure out just how she would take them out if Shepard gave the go-signal.

The quarian captain wasted no time in getting to the point. "Captain Shepard. Tali'Zorah told me a lot about you. I wish we could be meeting under more pleasant circumstances. I thank you for escorting her." He peered behind Shepard's shoulder at Jack. "And who is this?"

"May I introduce my adjutant, Jacqueline Naught," replied Shepard. "And technically, I never made the rank of Captain. I'm not even in the Alliance military at all anymore."

Jack almost rolled her eyes at that. For somebody who could be an absolute badass, Shepard had the bad habit of sounding like a pedantic dork a lot of the time.

Kar'Danna shrugged. "You are the leader of your ship, and responsible for the lives aboard it. In our eyes, that makes you a captain." His manner became more formal as he continued. "May you stand between your crew and harm as you lead them through the empty quarters of the stars."

"Keelah se'lai," murmured Tali. "It's an old ship captain's blessing, Shepard."

The Commander gave Kar'Danna a short bow. "Tali has helped the _Normandy's_ crew out of many difficult situations. I'm just here to return the favor. But I thank you, sir. Keelah se'lai."

The quarian captain returned the bow. "Technically, I'm supposed to take Tali into custody pending her trial, however I don't think that will be necessary, do you?"

Shepard nodded, and Jack couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. It would be nice to teach these bucketheads some manners.

"Good," continued Kar'Danna. "Tali, you're considered confined to the ship until the trial is over. The trial also requires me to be officially neutral, but I'm here if you need to talk. They're charging you with bringing active geth into the Fleet as part of a secret project."

That was not what Jack was expecting. She was thinking this was some kind of bullshit penny-ante political charge against her buckethead friend. This shit sounded serious, however.

"That's insane!" spluttered Tali. "I never brought active geth aboard. I only sent parts and pieces."

Shepard, to his credit, didn't let it pass without comment. "You sent geth materials back to the Migrant Fleet?"

Tali stood her ground. "Yes. My father was working on a project. He needed the materials." Then she stared off into the distance as she thought further. "If I sent back something that was only damaged, not permanently inactive...No! No, I checked everything. I was careful."

Kar'Danna didn't comment on what Tali had said. Instead, he looked at Shepard. "The hearing's being held in the garden plaza, through those doors. Good luck to you all."

Getting to the plaza went almost smoothly. Jack did want to give a good old-fashioned squishing to one of the assholes they ran into while making their way to the hearing. The fucker had the _nerve_ to say that if Tali couldn't get a quarian captain to stand for her, then she was as good as convicted. Jack almost went into manners-teaching mode at that point, only to be stopped by a look and a shake of the head from Shepard. He might be a massive dork most of the time, but Jack was willing to follow his lead.

They did encounter a couple of bucketheads that Jack _didn't_ want to squish, including somebody whom Tali referred to as her 'aunt'.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. I am glad that you came. I could delay them only so long."

"Auntie Raan!" Tali gave the taller quarian a hug. "Shepard, Jack, this is Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay. Wait, did you just call me..."

Admiral Raan looked down. "I'm afraid so. Admiral Koris insisted on your name change."

"Is that bad?" asked Jack.

Tali nodded. "They stripped me of my ship name. That's as good as declaring me exiled already."

Raan put a hand on Tali's shoulder. "You have more allies than you think. Unfortunately, I will have to recuse myself during the hearing due to my ties with your family."

Shepard shook his head. "That's unfortunate. Does Tali have a defense counselor, someone who speaks for her side?"

"Yes," replied Raan. "As her named ship's captain, it falls to you to plead her case."

Tali looked a little sheepish at that. "Er...so you would speak in my defense."

Jack expected Shepard to start blathering like a dork about how he technically wasn't a lawyer either blahblahblah, but he just nodded and said "I'll do everything in my power to help you, Tali."

The buckethead straightened up when she heard that. "Thank you, Shepard. I could not ask for a better counselor."

Now Jack _did_ roll her eyes. She was getting really sick of all the ridiculous footsie these two were playing with each other, and she made a promise to herself. If these two weren't together after this whole mess was over then she was going to strip Shepard naked, tie him up, and stick him in the airlock with a big red bow on his head. Then she was gonna send in Tali with some antiseptic wipes and a jar of lube.

The hearing itself was a real shit-show. At first the asshole that had taken Tali's name, Admiral Koris, tried to keep Shepard from speaking for Tali. But then he got the name-change he'd insisted on thrown right back in his face. That was nice. Jack began wondering what it would look like if she squished Koris' head. Would the suit helmet crack first, like a hard-boiled egg, or would his head just kind of turn into mush inside his suit? What color was quarian blood anyway? Had she ever killed a quarian? She was prety sure she hadn't. She'd have to look up later what color they bled. It would help with her imagination.

Her happy musings were interrupted by an exclamation from Tali. "What do you mean, the _Alarei_ is lost? What about my father?"

"He was on board the _Alarei_ ," replied Admiral Gerrel. He didn't sound happy, either. At least _this_ buckethead had been on Tali's side. "We've tried to send in marines to retake the ship, but no luck so far. Somehow it's been overrun with geth."

Koris snorted. "Somehow? Please. Tali has admitted she sent geth components back to her father. Clearly she was dangerously careless and incompetent."

Shepard gripped the railing in front of him, and Jack heard the metal under his gloves give a little creak. She smiled in anticipation. Watching Shepard go full-bore apeshit on these assholes would be the next best thing to squishing them herself.

"Let me get this straight," Shepard said with deadly calm. "You have an active invading force in the middle of your fleet at this very moment, and you thought the most productive thing to do would be to put a member of _my crew_ on trial?"

Koris suddenly realized he was facing a man who had taken down a Reaper. He began waving his arms. "Well, we had to determine how it occurred! We couldn't have it happen again, which is why we started this investigation!"

"Ah, an investigation. I'm glad you clarified that for me, _Admiral_ Koris. Because we simple humans would call this a witch-hunt." Shepard let go of the railing and stepped back. The sheet metal was bent where he'd been gripping it. "In any case, this hearing is pointless without further facts. Not to mention you have a serious security problem that needs to be taken care of immediately. The crew of the _Normandy_ stands ready to aid the Migrant Fleet."

"We gratefully accept your help," said Gerrel smoothly, before Koris could object. "If you can retake the _Alarei_ , then we will be able to access her records and properly determine how this unfortunate incident took place." He glared over at Koris. "Something we should do _before_ throwing around accusations of treason or incompetence."

Koris continued to bluster. "Well, the safest course of action would be to simply blow up the _Alarei_. But if Tali is looking for an honorable death instead of exile-"

Tali pointed an angry finger at the admiral. "I'm looking for my father, you _bosh'tet_!"

Admiral Raan raised a hand. "So be it. This hearing is adjourned until Tali'Zorah's return. Tali, you and your crewmates will be flown to the _Alarei_ and then you will attempt to retake it. Please rest assured, if you fall in the course of this duty your record will show that you acted in service to the Migrant Fleet. Any question of your loyalty or competence will be stricken from the record."

So there was a fight coming up, which sounded just fine to Jack. She hadn't had a chance yet to kill any geth. From the pictures she'd seen, they kinda looked like robotic bucketheads. If she squinted, she could imagine she was squishing Koris.

Of course, they couldn't go directly to the shuttle and get started with the squishing. There had to be an interminable round of walking around and talking to everyone. It looked like Shepard was trying to get a sense of the politics involved in this whole mess. And those politics were definitely messy. Tali was just the pawn who happened to be caught in between the factions led by Koris and Gerrel. Gerrel's side wanted to try and retake the buckethead homeworld of Rannoch. The asshole, Koris, wanted to see if they could make peace with the geth. Even Tali's 'aunt' had her own fucking agenda, and had deliberately not told Tali about her father.

If Jack were captain, that last bit of news would have been enough to unleash hell on all of these fuckers. But Shepard had just nodded and kept moving on. The last two bucketheads they met with were a twitchy guy named Veetor and a taller marine named Kal'Reegar. Jack liked him, or at least didn't feel like killing him right away. The marine was no nonsense, and went through with them what had been tried so far by the two strike teams.

"I can give you some schematics of the _Alarei_ as well, for what that's worth," said Kal'Reegar. "The geth have a nasty habit of restructuring bulkheads and whatnot. You might not find the layout the same anymore."

"It's better than nothing," replied Shepard. "It's good to see you up and about, Kal."

The quarian shrugged. "And it's good to see Tali with you. It's great that somebody's looking out for her."

* * *

The shuttle ride to the lab ship was tense. Tali kept wringing her hands, to the point where Jack almost snapped at her to cut it out. But she settled for reaching over and putting her hand on Tali's shoulder. It was a sappy move, but at least it got Tali to stop twitching.

"It's okay, buckethead. We'll go kick some ass, get the info, and show those fuckers how wrong they were."

"Are they, though?" asked Tali. "I wonder."

"Of course they are, Tali," replied Shepard. He was was seated across from them and doing his own little nervous habit of tapping one foot on the deck.

"I keep going over it," said the quarian. "I keep wondering if I did mess up somehow. Did I send something that wasn't fully deactivated?"

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "No way. You're a perfectionist. Besides, how hard could it be to make sure those components weren't dangerous?"

"Harder than you think," replied Tali. "The structure of geth mentality is a lot different than other AIs. Take EDI, for example. She's centralized. If you take out her quantum blue box, then she'd be dead. But geth are much more diverse. There really isn't a notion of 'individuality' with them. There are separate processes, but each is less than intelligent. They don't exhibit sapience until enough of them join together." She leaned back. "I thought that Father was testing weaponry on inactive geth components. He must have been doing more."

"There's no way it could be a huge mistake?" asked Shepard. "Somebody flipping the wrong switch or something?"

Tali shook her head sadly. "No. There's too many steps involved. Whatever my father was up to, it wasn't entirely innocent. I hope that what we find can help exonerate him, or at least shed a positive light on his actions."

* * *

Jack had once nearly come to blows with Tali. At the time she had figured the buckethead was dangerous, but not too big of a worry. Now the biotic knew that it was a very good thing they hadn't thrown down. Tali was a _machine_ when she was on the job. She was always in the front, hacking doors and sending false signals into the geth network to get them looking elsewhere. And the geth were being bigger trouble than Jack was expecting. There were some sneaky bastards who had cloaks similar to Kasumi's. They were a real pain in the ass.

They found some data logs as they went along. One was from one of the buckethead scientists, who mentioned something about deliberately taking down firewalls. Jack wasn't a security expert but that sounded reckless to her, and from they way Tali's shoulders drooped the buckethead thought so as well. There was more. Another log, from the same scientist talking with somebody else.

The other person sounded pissed. "Who's running this system diagnostic? I didn't authorize...oh, Keelah. How many geth are networked?"

"All of them," replied the scientist. "Rael'Zorah said to-"

"Shut it down!" yelled the other quarian. "Shut everything down! They're in the system!"

The log ended right after that.

Jack almost hated to ask it, but she figured somebody had to. "Tali, it looks like your father-"

"I know what it looks like," snapped Tali. "But we can't draw any conclusions yet."

Further on, they broke into what looked like had been a medbay of some sort. There was a scrap of a biomechanical armature on one of the beds; the part definitely looked like geth.

Tali pondered it. "This is one of the storage units I sent to father. Looks like parts from a disabled repair drone, plus a reflex algorithm that I didn't recognize. I got this on Haestrom."

Shepard prodded it with his rifle. "Why did you choose this?"

"It was something we hadn't encountered before," replied Tali. "Anything new was a priority for my father. Anything that looked like technology the geth had developed themselves."

Jack had missed out on the Haestrom mission due to circumstances that she didn't like to think about. But she had heard how nasty it had been. "You salvaged this in the middle of a war zone? Damn, Buckethead. I don't care what you say, you really do have a pair."

Tali shrugged and didn't reply.

The next log they found was worse. The pissed-off researcher from before had been cornered in a room by the geth, and was leaving her final words to anybody who might find them. "We've disabled navigation, and the ship's weapons are offline. Our failure won't be dangerous to the Fleet." There was a hissing noise off screen, and the quarian's helmeted head leaned closer to the camera. "They're burning through the door, I don't have much time. Jona, if you get this, be strong for Daddy. Mommy loves you very much!" There was a squeal of rending metal and then a final, terrible scream.

Tali shut it off and didn't look at either of them. "There were twenty crew on this ship, not including my father. I...I hope he doesn't have that much blood on his hands."

Jack decided that now was not the time to try to buck up Tali's courage.

They did finally find one hint as to what had happened. It was in a large console tucked away near a stairwell. Tali began dancing her fingers over its surface, and nodded in satisfaction. "This might have something. Most of the data is corrupted, but a few bits are left." She scanned through various logs much too fast for Jack to follow. "They were performing experiments on geth systems, looking for ways to overcome geth resistance to reprogramming."

Shepard frowned. "I've killed my fair share of geth, but this sounds sadistic. Was he testing logic weapons on the geth you recovered?"

Tali glared at him. "It's not like testing weapons on prisoners, Shepard. I only sent father _parts_. Even if he assembled them, they wouldn't be sapient. You saw what Saren and Sovereign did with the geth. Any research that gives us an advantage is important."

"Let's focus on why we're here, guys," said Jack. "Tali, does any of that shit help you out with your troubles?"

Tali calmed down. "Doubtful. This is mostly results data. Effects of different disruptive hacking techniques. I don't understand all of it." She scanned through more of what she could find and suddenly shuddered. "Oh no."

Jack touched her shoulder. "Buckethead? Talk to me. What is it?" Shepard glanced behind them as he made sure no geth were sneaking up on them.

Tali's silver eyes met hers. "Jack...Shepard may be right. They may have been reactivating the geth deliberately. I don't know. Nothing here says specifically. But if they were...then Father was doing something terrible."

"Terrible?" Jack felt like there was a band around her chest, keeping her from breathing properly. "You mean he really might have been doin' torture. On the geth."

Tali nodded.

"Just like Pragia," continued Jack.

After a little pause, Tali nodded again.

"Fuck. Hang on guys, just give me a moment." Jack turned and stared at a nearby bulkhead. It was clean and pristine, not at all like the half-ruined hulk of a building they'd found on Pragia. Jack considered geth the enemy. But they could _feel_. And the thought of somebody doing to anybody else the same things that she had endured...even if that 'anybody else' was an enemy...

Jack screamed and punched the wall. There was a blue flash. A sizable dent was now in the middle of it, as if it had been hit with a grenade.

"And now they know we're here," muttered Shepard.

Jack glared at him. "Sorry. I'm okay now. Let's keep moving."

Tali was still staring at the console, clearly ignoring what was going on around her. "What was all of this, Father?" she murmured. "You promised you'd build me a house on the homeworld. Was this going to bring us back home?"

Jack realized that no matter what heinous shit her father might have done, Tali was still her friend. She put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it's time for you guys to move on and forget about getting back Rannoch."

Tali rounded on Jack. She was clearly pissed. "Jack, you have no idea what it's like! You have your choice of planets to live on! My home is one hull breach away from extinction!"

She wasn't sure why that mattered. "So find a new home, then. We've done plenty of colonies ourselves."

Tali slumped. "We'll have enough difficulty re-acclimating to our own native environment. Adjusting for exposure to a foreign colony would be even harder. It would be more like 600 years instead of 60."

"No more talk. We move," said Shepard.

They went up the stairs, alert for any mechanical buzzing or chirping that would indicate the presence of the enemy. The room at the top of the stairs looked empty, but Shepard pointed silently at a couple of corners. After a bit, Jack could see the hazy wobble in both locations that indicated cloaked geth. He made the gestures that indicated how they would hit them.

And hit them they did. Jack slammed one against a wall with a shockwave while at the same time Tali distracted the other with her drone and blasted it to bits. A few more shots and the room was cleared. The door to the next room hissed open.

Jack was the one who saw the body first.

It had a large hole right through its chest, with burn marks all around the entrance wound. She felt a little tingle in her neck as she realized that the ornate decorations on the quarian's cowl looked an awful lot like Tali's. Maybe that meant...

"Father!" yelled Tali as she rushed past Jack. She knelt by the corpse and began checking it over with shaking hands. Her voice was almost crooning in her grief. "No, no, no...you always had a plan. Masked life signs, or, or an onboard medical stasis program maybe. You, you wouldn't..." Tali trailed off, and Jack saw Shepard move past her and towards the pair on the floor.

"They're wrong!" screamed Tali into the air. Her hands were clenched into fists. "You wouldn't just _die_ on me like this! You wouldn't leave me to clean up your _fucking mess!_ You wouldn't.."

Shepard gently pulled Tali to her feet and embraced her without a word.

She clutched at him and sobbed into his armored shoulder. "Damn it! Damn it, I'm sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," murmured Shepard. He held her until her sobbing stopped. Jack knew enough to just stay out of the way.

Tali sniffed and stepped back. "Maybe...he would have known I'd come. Maybe he left a message." She knelt back down beside the corpse and activated its omni-tool.

A male voice sounded tinnily from the omni-tool. "Tali, if you're listening, then I am dead." Her head dropped in fresh grief as the voice continued. "The geth have gone active, and I don't have much time. Their main hub will be on the bridge. You'll need to destroy it to stop them from forming new neural links. Make sure Han'Gerrel and Daro'Xen see the data. They must-" There was a gunshot and a burst of static, and then the recording ended.

Tali stood, still staring at the ground. Shepard stood by her awkwardly. Jack silently urged the dork to say _something_ to her. And he finally did.

Shepard placed a gentle arm around Tali's shoulders. "He knew you'd come for him. He was trying to help you. It's not perfect. It's not what you wanted. But it's the best he could do."

Tali leaned against him, clearly glad for the hug. "I don't know what's worse," she murmured. "Thinking that he never really cared, or thinking that he did, and that this was the only way he could show it." Her head came up. "It doesn't matter. One way or the other, I cared. And now I'm here. And now we are ending this."


	38. Picture In A Frame

The bridge of the _Alarei_ held the largest geth that Jack had ever seen, a juggernaut of metal that made a YMIR look like a tinfoil doll. Fortunately they'd gotten the drop on it plus its two little buddies. Jack ignored the smaller geth and just ran right by the big sonofabitch, whooping and waving her arms with no attempt at stealth.

"Jack!" yelled Shepard in frustration.

"I'M THE DISTRACTION, MOTHERFUCKER!" screamed Jack as she felt the bulkhead behind her char and burn from the big geth's blast. She hoped the Boss would remember the lesson he'd taught her a while back.

He did. While the big mech turned to try to destroy this annoying pest, Shepard hit it right in the back with a concussive shot. The mech staggered, and Jack threw a shockwave at it for good measure. Tali, meanwhile, had already scrapped the other two geth and was zipping her drone around the mech to give it yet another thing to shoot at. And every time the big machine turned to respond to a new threat, the other two would pound it mercilessly. After a short while, the thing was down and in a smoking, sparking heap.

Shepard walked up to Jack, who stood panting with a feral grin near the front of the bridge. He opened his mouth as if to give her a harangue, then closed it. "I'm glad to see you remember your lessons," he said shortly, and moved away. Jack chuckled.

In the meantime, Tali had found a console on a large pillar in the center of the bridge. "This is linked to the main hub Father mentioned. Shutting it down will deactivate any geth we missed." She paged through the files on the hub, and her shoulders slumped. "It looks like some of the recordings remained intact. They'll tell us how this happened, what Father did."

"You sound like you don't really want to hear it," replied Shepard.

"I don't," said Tali. "But I know we have to. It's just...this is terrible, Shepard. I don't want to know that he was part of this." She reached out to open a video file, then hesitated.

"Tali," said Jack. The quarian looked over in surprise as Jack continued. "Whatever you find there...just remember that it isn't _you_. You aren't responsible for any of it."

Tali nodded, and opened the video. Sure enough, it showed her father talking with two other quarians.

"Do we have enough parts to bring more online?" asked her father.

One of the other quarians nodded. "Yes. The new shipment from your daughter, combined with our other materials, will let us add two more geth to the network."

The other quarian cleared his throat. "We're nearing a breakthrough on viral attacks into geth logic structures. There will be questions as to how we achieved it. Perhaps we should inform the Admiralty Board now, just to be safe."

Tali's father made an emphatic gesture with one arm. "No. We're too close. I promised to build my daughter a house on Rannoch. I'm not going to sit and wait while the politicians argue about ethics."

Jack looked over at Tali and saw her hood droop as the video continued.

The first quarian rubbed his hands together nervously. "We'd have an easier and faster time of it if Tali'Zorah could send back geth material that was more...active. I'm sure she'd understand the necessity of skirting certain rules."

Tali's father gave him a death glare that Jack could feel right through the video screen. "Absolutely not," he snapped. "I don't want Tali exposed to any political or ethical blowback. She is to be left completely out of this. Assemble new geth using what we have. Bypass security protocols if need be."

The video ended. There was a long and terrible silence.

Shepard finally broke that silence. "It sounds like he was doing this for you."

Tali gave a strangled sob. "As if that excuses him. I never wanted a home that badly! Keelah, I never wanted this." Her hood darted around as she took in the blasted and scorched bridge around them. She waved her arms to indicate the entire ship. "Everything here is his fault! I tried to pretend that it didn't point to him, but this...oh Keelah. He's responsible for all of the tortured geth, for all of dead quarians, all of it! When this comes up in the trial, they'll...we can't tell them. Not the admirals, not anyone."

Jack walked towards her. "Buckethead, without this proof they'll kick you out."

The quarian put her hand on her hood as if her head pained her. "You think I don't know that? You think I want to live knowing that I can never see the Fleet again? But I can't go back into that hearing and say that my father was the worst war criminal in our people's history. I just can't."

Shepard put his hand on her shoulder. "Your father's dead, Tali. You heard him, he didn't want you to be hurt by any of this. What difference does it make for him now?"

Tali looked beseechingly at him. "You don't understand, Shepard. They would strike his name from the manifest of every ship he ever served on. It would be worse than exile. He'd be considered a monster."

Jack had dealt with her share of monsters, and she personally thought it was fine to make sure that everybody knew who they were. But she could also appreciate that Tali had some affection for the bastard.

Shepard squeezed Tali's shoulder. "We're not going to solve it all here and now. Tali, do you trust me?"

"You're my captain, Shepard," replied Tali.

"I'm not asking as your captain. Do you trust _me?_ "

The quarian looked at him. His blue eyes were visible behind his helmet's visor and they had a warm gleam in them that Jack had never seen before.

Finally Tali nodded. "You are my friend, Shepard. My best friend. Of course I trust you."

That gleam in Shepard's eyes got warmer. "Then just follow my lead. Now come on, let's get back before they decide we're dead."

* * *

And sure enough, the fucking admirals had started the hearing back up and were right in the middle of pissing and moaning among themselves. That was fine by Jack, since it just gave them a more dramatic entrance as they came marching back into the plaza.

"Sorry we're late," said Tali cheekily as the three of them came swaggering up.

Gerrel cleared his throat, trying to look official. "Ah, yes. Very happy to see you made it back, Tali. Did you find anything on the _Alarei_ that could clarify what happened there?"

There was a short silence, then Shepard walked forward and placed his hands gently on the railing.

"Shepard, please," murmured Tali in a voice that only Jack could hear.

The biotic looked at the Commander. The set of his shoulders was the same as when he was getting ready unload the fires of hell onto some deserving motherfucker. Jack grinned. Whatever Shepard had in mind, it wasn't going to be some dorky legal procedure. "Relax, buckethead," she murmured back to Tali. "He's got this."

Shepard said nothing, and then Admiral Koris straightened. "Does Captain Shepard have any new evidence to submit to this hearing?" he asked.

The Commander tilted his head. He still said nothing.

Finally Raan started to speak. "Captain Shepard, please, do you-"

"I would spit on you all," said Shepard. "But I'm wearing a helmet. Tali's achievements are the only evidence you should ever need. She's saved your asses ten times over. Hell, she's saved _my_ ass more times than I can remember. And this is the thanks she gets. You do not deserve her." He spun away and nodded at the two of them. "Tali, Jack, on me. We're leaving."

Jack's grin felt like it was going to split her head in two. _Fuckin' A!_ She fell in beside Shepard as he began marching out of the plaza and back towards the _Normandy_. Tali was right on the other side of him.

She heard Raan yell "What?" behind them.

Koris also yelled after them. "Captain Shepard! This is a formal proceeding!"

Shepard spun and began walking furiously back towards the railing. It was a good thing that Jack was off to one side. If she'd been directly behind him, the Commander would have flattened her right into the deck.

"WRONG, Admiral!" roared Shepard. He pointed a steady finger at Koris. "You know that this trial is a farce. You're just trying to foster sympathy for the geth and forestall the war effort!"

Koris spluttered. "That is ridiculous and completely-"

"Shut the fuck up," snapped Shepard, and moved his finger to Gerrel. "And you! You want your messy experiments covered up so you can throw your fleet at the geth!"

Gerrel drew himself up. "Listen, I-"

Shepard dropped his hand. "No, you listen to me." He glared at the Admirals. "By all that is holy, you _will_ listen to me. Do whatever the hell you want with your little toy ships. But you will damn well leave _my_ crew out of your political BULLSHIT." The yell echoed through the plaza. Nobody in the crowd even breathed. Shepard's fists dropped to his sides, and he faced the Admiralty Board like a boxer ready to go a hundred rounds. "We have no new evidence," he spat. "You can accept Tali's word, or you can exile the woman who saved the Citadel from the geth. Do what you will, you ungrateful cunts."

There was a very brief and very animated bout of whispering among the four Admirals. Finally, Admiral Raan stood and raised her hand.

"Tali'Zorah," she said, "in light of your history of service, we do not find sufficient evidence to convict. You are cleared of all charges. Go in peace, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Keelah sel'ai."

* * *

Tali looked shyly at Shepard. They were in the corridor leading back to the _Normandy_. "Shepard, I just wanted you to know something. What you said in there...I just wanted to thank you. I've never had anyone speak like that on my behalf. Thank you for being there for me..and for my father, I suppose."

Now that the trial was over, Shepard was right back to his old embarrassed self. He rubbed one hand on the back of his neck. "Tali, about what your father said, what he did. I'm so sorry. You deserve better."

She remembered his embrace during that horrible moment on board the _Alarei_. Tali reached tentatively forward and placed her gloved hand on his shoulder. She now knew how much he cared for her. How could she make him understand that she felt the same?

"I got better, Shepard," she said. "I got you."

The words seemed to float in the corridor. Shepard's eyes got that warm gleam again. "Tali?" he said, almost in disbelief. She moved forward, waiting for him to push her away at any moment. That moment never came. She pressed against him and felt that familiar little flare of pleasure in her stomach as his arms went around her. Only this time it wasn't due to a mere daydream.

From behind her, Tali heard Jack's muttered voice. "Fucking _finally_."

She felt Shepard's chest shake a little as he chuckled. "We have been kind of silly, haven't we Tali?"

"Speak for yourself," she murmured into his shoulder. If she dropped dead right now she would die happy. "I want nothing more than to be with you. Always. Even if I have to give up everything."

"Oh?" She heard the amusement in his voice. "Well in that case we could still go back in and get ya exiled, if you want. I'm sure Jack wouldn't mind smashing a few more things."

"I'm always up for some of the old ultraviolence, Boss," said Jack.

Tali looked up at him and smiled. "Nah, I'm fine with things like this. You know, it's fun watching you shout."

* * *

Mordin was finishing up his report on the Collector corpse when the door to his lab opened. He looked up and saw Tali'Zorah come in with Jack at her elbow. He was a little surprised. In spite of the quarian reputation for 'weakness', Tali had not yet come to see him for any treatment. The salarian suspected that was due in part to the marvelous environmental suit that Tali wore; he had heard they were the last word in automated healing and disease control. Mordin secretly itched with the desire to take one apart and find out how they worked. He wondered if he could persuade Tali to let him have a look at her suit, perhaps if she stayed in the airlock after a few sterilization cycles...

Tali's voice interrupted his musing. "Um, hello Mordin, I have a, um, favor to ask." She wrung her hands together for a moment, then turned to Jack. "It's too embarrassing!" she whispered.

The biotic crossed her arms and stared at her. Mordin wondered what was going on. Was Tali sick?

"Illness not embarrassing," he said in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "If suffering from varren scale itch, be assured that Dr. Chakwas found it was a rare airborne mutation and not the more common venereally-transmitted variety."

"No," said Tali hastily. "I'm not sick, it's just..." She trailed off.

Jack snorted and shook her head. "I swear, it's a goddamn miracle that any little bucketheads get made. Doc, Tali and the Boss want to get their freak on. Ya got any suggestions?"

Mordin could see Tali blushing right through her visor. But with Jack's words he felt relief. This was an educational visit, and not a medical problem. Education was always much more pleasant. "Excellent!" he chirped cheerfully. "Honestly expected either Tali or Shepard to seek advice before now. But no time like the present, as the humans say."

He began singing softly as he turned to his terminal and called up the necessary files. " _With cat-like tread, Upon our prey we steal, In silence dread, Our cautious way we feel..._ Ah, here we are! Fortunately humans and quarians similar in skin type and texture, do not have to worry about," _sniff_ "chafing as during turian-to-human coupling. Broadly speaking genitalia between species should be compatible, although due to physical variation among humans and quarians true physical compatibility needs to be determined on a case-by-case basis."

It looked like Tali wanted to just drop into the floor and vanish, or go running out the door. But Jack's hand on her elbow kept her in place. Jack got an interested look on her face. "Hey doc, you were there when Shepard got all loopy and did his strip tease on Illium. Didja get a look at him?"

"Of course."

"All of him?" Jack grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Know what your question is leading to. Unfortunately, have had minimal clinical interaction with naked human males. Have limited frame of reference to compare various human male endowments."

Jack kept pressing the issue. "Okay, got it, but in your limited experience what would you call him?"

Mordin considered. "Impressive."

Jack hooted and dug an elbow into Tali's side as the quarian blushed even more.

"To continue!" he said with firmness. This lecture had gotten off track. "Minor concern due to dextro- versus levo-protein compatibility. Not much data in the literature on human-quarian interaction but my analysis indicates minimal chance of true allergic reaction for either partner. Still recommend minimal ingestion of each other's secretions to start with."

"Secretions?" gasped Tali.

Mordin nodded. "Aside from obvious sexual emissions, should also be careful with sweat, hair, tears, and so forth. Expect that continued exposure to each other will allow for relaxing of such concerns."

"Continued expoooosure," said Jack in Tali's ear as she waggled her eyebrows.

"Jack, please!" Tali wrung her hands together.

The young woman put a hand on Tali's shoulder. Her face became more serious, but still retained a sardonic smile. "Tali, you want to be with Shepard. He wants to be with you. I really wish this could be as easy as locking you both in a room with an economy-size box of condoms. But you've gotta be careful, otherwise you're gonna be dead. And I don't want that, even though you can be annoying as fuck sometimes."

Tali gave her a look with one raised eyebrow. "Only sometimes? I must be losing my touch."

Jack laughed. "That's the spirit. Sorry, doc. Continue."

Mordin grasped his lapels. "Now move on to issue of greatest concern, the quarian immune system. Fortunately, have observed your interest in the Commander. In anticipation of this event, have prepared a complete protocol..."

* * *

"I can't believe he already had an entire list of steps ready," murmured Tali. She and Jack were riding back down to Engineering in the elevator.

The biotic was slouched against the wall across from Tali. "Yeah, well, Mordin's a boy scout, you know, always prepared. Everybody knew you and the Boss were panting after each other."

"I was not panting after him!" snapped Tali.

Jack's grin showed all of her teeth. "Bull and shit. Fer chrissake, Tali, it's not like it's a crime to be horny. Why not admit it?"

"It's just not proper. A good quarian doesn't, well, advertise herself like that."

"Oh yeah? And who taught you that? Your father?"

Tali glared over at Jack and saw that she wasn't grinning. The tattooed woman was looking at her with a piercing gaze. Tali felt her anger subside a little. Jack did have a point. "He was very concerned with the family image, yes." She turned away and sighed. "Family image. I still wonder if we did the right thing with the Admiralty Board. Maybe it would be better to just have it all out in the open."

"That was your call, not mine," replied Jack. "I didn't know him. From what little I saw, he was a hard-ass bastard who expected nothing but the best from his children."

Tali leaned against the elevator wall nearest her. "That's pretty much right." She thought about what she'd admitted in a roundabout fashion to Shepard back aboard the original _Normandy_. "Father drove me to always do better. I think he expected me to be on the Admiralty Board someday. I never complained and I never thought he was being unfair. After all, he was the very model of quarian perfection." She regarded her gloved hands. "And underneath it all, he was capable of a cruelty I can't imagine. I have spent my whole life trying to win the affection of a monster." Tali would have screamed or punched a wall like Jack, but right now she just felt spent.

"And now it just so happens that you've won the affection of a truly good guy," replied Jack. "So go and be happy with him. Forget about your dad and don't give one single fuck about what a 'proper quarian' would do. What about the badass buckethead Tali'Zorah? What would _she_ do?"

* * *

"Gah!" Garrus was getting eyestrain. "Half of this Cerberus crap is still encrypted."

"It is all that Miranda and I could get, Garrus," replied EDI. "I am sorry."

He rubbed his eyes and rested his head on the conference table. It was one of the few out-of-the-way places where he could get some peace while he plowed through this.

"May I suggest some rest?" said EDI. "At least take a break. You have been going for four hours nonstop."

A bit of a juice break would be welcome, he thought. Garrus hauled himself to his feet and headed down to the mess. It was between meals and the only other occupant was Thane. Garrus exchanged nods with the drell as he grabbed a juice pouch from the kitchen and then sat down nearby. Thane didn't seem to be doing anything other than meditating. The drell must have gotten tired of looking at the walls of life support.

Garrus wondered how Thane's disease was progressing. Dr. Chakwas had said that he would be relatively unimpeded by his condition until close to the end, when he would begin to have bouts of near asphyxiation. It seemed like a horrible way to go. Garrus wondered what he would do if faced with a similarly unavoidable fate.

He also wondered if he should get Thane involved in his search. If Garrus was honest with himself, the drell was probably as good a sniper as he was. And part of what made a great sniper was not only seeing what was there, but also seeing what was _not_ there and yet should be.

"Thane, would you have the time to help me out?"

"Certainly," replied the drell. "While we are in space, there is little for me to assassinate." He smiled a bit. "Are you looking for marksmanship advice?"

"Ha! No, we have a lot of Cerberus research data to analyze. It looks like there may be a Reaper-based device that will allow us to get through the O-4 relay, and Cerberus has a lot of work going on in reverse-engineering Reaper technology."

"So it is logical to assume that this device is somewhere in the Cerberus network."

"Yeah, but the stuff that Miranda and EDI were able to get has a lot of encryption. I have bits and pieces of various research efforts, but putting everything together is the tricky part."

"I am no scientist, but I am pleased to help."

* * *

Tali watched Oriana boot up the 'EDI drone, Mark 2'. This was a sphere about half a meter in diameter, with two arms dangling from its sides. Oriana had placed the lenses on its front to give it something more like a 'face'. She had asked Tali to meet her in the hangar as EDI gave the 'Mark 2' a proper run-through. To Tali's surprise, EDI had also insisted that Joker join them for the activation.

"Thanks again for your help with the improved manipulators, Tali." she said.

The quarian shrugged. "I figured EDI would want fingers as well as hands." Instead of simple claws, this drone had small three-fingered hands.

"Great," said Joker. "That just gives her a better way to abuse me. Why am I here again?"

"I wanted to give you the chance to get a head start this time, Jeff," said EDI.

The pilot glared upwards. "You had better follow up with 'that was a joke', Miss Lidless Eye."

"Oh, Jeff. You haven't called me that in ages. Thank you, I believe I am beginning to understand this feeling known as _nostalgia_."

"Smart-ass," muttered Joker. He glowered at the 'Mark 2'. "So when are you gonna fire it up? Should I go put on some cast-iron britches?"

"It's already synced," said Oriana. "Give it a try, EDI."

This drone did not jerk like the 'Mark 1' did initially. This drone smoothly raised off of the workbench and then did a slow orbit of the trio. Joker flinched a little as it went by him. "It is definitely easier to maneuver," said EDI. The drone's hands came up and waggled its fingers. "Oh, yes," the AI continued. "This is going to be very nice."

The drone whirred gently into the center of the hangar and spread its arms. "Very nice indeed!" said EDI's drone as it spun around like a top. Then it stopped. "Jeff, come here please."

Joker swallowed. "Really? EDI, I've been a good boy. No pranks at all, you know that."

"I know." The drone extended one hand towards him, palm up. "Please, I have something I want to try. Let's say it's my way to make amends."

The pilot looked dubious but still hobbled forward. "If you're going to try something new, you might want to get somebody less fragile. Like Grunt, or Shepard, or...well, pretty much anybody else."

"No," replied EDI. "It should be you." She was speaking exclusively through the drone now. As Joker came up to her, she reached out and took his hand, then extended his arm out to the side along her own manipulator arm. The drone's other arm went around his waist as its body moved close to his.

"EDI?" Joker sounded like he was getting ready to panic. "What is this?"

"This is us getting ready to dance, Jeff."

"I don't dance, and you really don't want me to try. Dr. Chakwas would be busy for a month afterwards."

"Trust me, Jeff. I asked Oriana for this upgraded drone, and I designed many improvements to its mass effect drives. It should hold your skeletal system in place while we do this."

"Um, I really think somebody else should try this _holy shit what the hell is that?_ " A slight blue shimmer appeared around Joker's legs and torso.

"Now we can dance," said EDI with satisfaction. "I am afraid that I will have to lead, although I understand that may not be traditional."

Joker gave a little yelp as they both levitated a little off of the deck, and then the two interlocked figures moved forward a little. It almost looked like Joker was skating; his lower body was held stationary as they slid forward a little. Then EDI began moving them both around with greater speed. Tali stared in amazement as they twirled about the middle of the hangar. Joker's initial look of utter fright was replaced with disbelief.

Oriana grinned and clapped her hands. "Bravo!"

"It lacks something," added Tali. "We need some music."

"I agree," replied Oriana. "EDI, do you have any suggestions?"

In response, a song began to play throughout the hangar. It was some sort of instrumental with violins. Tali couldn't recognize it. The initial melody seemed to speak of a longing for connection, a need to touch someone else's heart. The pair in the middle of the hangar began moving in time with the music.

"What is this, EDI?" asked Oriana. "I like it."

"This is an Earth song called _Por Una Cabeza_ ," replied EDI. "It's a tango written in CE 1935." The pair in the middle of the hangar continued their stately spinning as the violins swelled into the next portion of the tune. Now the song spoke to Tali of the joy in finding that certain other, the one that made you complete.

Joker was now grinning ear to ear, his initial fear totally forgotten. "Holy shit, look at this! We're dancing!" He laughed, the first truly happy and non-cynical laugh that Tali had ever heard from him.

The quarian crossed her arms and looked at Joker's happy face. This was not something that had just happened by accident. EDI had wanted to make him happy, and she had done so. Tali thought back on her initial misgivings about unshackling EDI. She gave silent thanks to her ancestors that the AI had actually wound up being benign. And now she saw that EDI was not just benign, but capable of true affection.

It made her wonder about the future of her people and their long struggle with the geth. Her father had resorted to unthinkable means to end that struggle, and Tali had no doubt that he would have wiped out the geth if he had finished his logic weapon development. But was there the possibility of reconciliation? She had dismissed Admiral Koris as a fool, but now she wondered if he had a point.

Thinking of her father brought another twinge of sadness. All that Tali had ever wanted was to get his approval, to see him as happy as Joker looked now. But she had always failed, and never once had she questioned if his demanding of perfection was fair. But then his own supposed 'perfection' had turned out to be a cruel joke.

"Are we doing this right, EDI?" asked Joker.

The AI's voice had a warm tone to it that Tali had never heard. "There are no mistakes in the tango, Jeff. If you mess up, you just tango on."

The strings subsided a little, and now the song spoke of the back-and-forth that always comes in a new relationship. That was something that Tali had never experienced first-hand. But now she at last had the chance. And better still, that chance was with the dashing captain that had first captured her heart. Proper quarian decorum dictated that she should proceed slowly, and always be hesitant to proceed to the next level physically or emotionally.

"Are you feeling brave enough for a dip, Jeff?" asked EDI.

"Go for it!" Joker's face gave a little flicker of fear that was replaced with fresh joy as the pair pivoted parallel to the floor.

"I've got you, Jeff." said EDI.

The pilot laughed again as they pivoted back upright. "I never doubted it."

Tali realized that she had also never doubted Shepard's love for her. Through the many months she had been on the new _Normandy_ , it had been just like old times...no, it had been better than old times. Shepard had always been there, always ready to talk with her. And if there was no doubt, then why bother with decorum? Given what her father really was, why give his notions of propriety any weight at all?

The two figures in the middle of the hangar slowed and came to a stop as the music wound down into a final promise of true connection.

"Thank you, EDI." Joker sniffed a bit, as if he was trying not to cry.

"It was my pleasure, Jeff. Let me know if you would ever like to do this again."

Tali dropped her arms to her sides and stalked out of the hangar like a quarian marine on a mission.

* * *

Shepard yawned and scratched his ass as he walked out of his shower. He slung a towel over one shoulder and strolled naked over to his closet. For once he was glad that Garrus had dragged him off on that shopping trip during their stay on Illium. He wanted to wear something special, since this was going to be he and Tali's first...hell, call it what it was. Their first _date_. It was a wonderful if odd thing to say to himself.

He regarded his clothes and considered his options. At least Tali didn't have to worry about what to wear. And that was why they had to be so very careful. Shepard would never forgive himself if he hurt her, so getting physical was something that would have to be done very gradually. He would have to read up on quarian immunology as well as their environmental suits.

The thought of Tali in her suit led naturally to thoughts of getting Tali _out_ of her suit. He had to admit to a strong curiosity about what she actually looked like. And not only did he want to see her face, but see the rest of her. That led his mind into some pleasantly dirty daydreams and he felt some stirring down below.

"I see the captain is coming onto the bridge," said a familiar modulated voice from behind him.

"GAH! Who.." Shepard spun and hurriedly dragged the towel off of his shoulder to cover the important bits. "Tali?"

She lay on her side on his sofa, with one knee up and her head propped up on one hand in the classic 'centerfold' pose. "Don't mind me," she said. "I'm just enjoying the view."

Shepard realized he had just walked past her with his ass hanging out. Hell, with his _everything_ hanging out. He clutched the towel nervously in front of his groin. "I, ah,um...we were meeting at seven, right?"

"Yes, we were. And I know how this was going to proceed." Tali gracefully slung her legs down and got to her feet. "We were going to be oh-so-careful. And you were going to be your usual gallant self and keep things chaste for at least a month or so." She walked forward, those amazing hips of hers hypnotizing him as they swayed. "Holding hands, gentle hugs, that sort of thing."

"Well, I, ah, yeah something like that."

"And then after that, maybe a little friskiness. Some fondling, a little...what do you call it...heavy petting? In a couple of months, we might even try something like this." She reached over with her left hand and touched her right forearm. Shepard felt his heart stop as she unlatched her glove and removed it.

"Tali, Jesus! What are you..."

"It's sealed around my forearm," replied Tali. "No unfiltered air is getting into my suit. I'll just need to wipe my hand down and sterilize the glove before I put it back on." She tossed the detached glove aside.

Shepard was mesmerized by the sight of her exposed hand. Tali's skin was a warm gray in color and as smooth as a baby seal. Her long thumb and two thick fingers splayed out as Tali stretched them, then she reached towards him. He would have grabbed her hand to stop her, but that would involve letting go of the towel. And it would wind up contaminating her anyway. "Tali, I really don't think that's a good idea..."

He trailed off as her bare finger touched his chin. The sensation of her bare skin on his flesh sent an electric shock all down his spine. Tali gave a little pleased hum as she gently stroked along his jawline. Shepard could feel his stubble rasp under her touch. "Human facial hair is so weird," mused Tali. Her hand traced down his throat, then she pressed her palm against his bare chest. Tali's skin was warm to the touch, much warmer than he expected.

Shepard looked down in disbelief, then up at the predatory gleam in Tali's glowing eyes. "I am done with trying to be a model daughter for a monster. I am done with being careful."

He finally found his voice. "Careful isn't necessarily a bad thing, Tali."

"We're in the middle of what is practically a suicide mission. I just saw a man who could barely walk _dance_. I'm not wasting one more second worrying about careful." She pressed her body up against him, trapping his towel between her and 'Little Shepard'. That gleam in Tali's eyes deepened as she slipped her bare hand around behind him and grabbed his ass.

Shepard almost squeaked as he felt her strong fingers grip one of his glutes and give it a good kneading. "Niiiice," she murmured. Her faceplate was very close to his lips, and he could see her eyes peering intently at his expression as she fondled his rear.

He could also feel the heat coming off of his beet-red face. "Tali, really, we should at least make sure-"

"Go talk to Mordin," she said in a low and lustful growl. "I'm giving you one week to read up and get ready. And then I'm coming back to claim this ass." Tali gave his cheek another firm squeeze, then let go and stepped back. She retrieved her glove and gave his astonished face a silver wink. "I'll see you at seven, big boy. I'm glad to see that Mordin wasn't lying."

Shepard stared dazedly off into the distance as his cabin door closed. He gradually realized that sometime during the proceedings he had lost his grip on the towel. It was now in a heap on the floor. He had also gotten an erection that could hammer a nail into concrete.

"First Samara, now Tali," he muttered. "Is there something in the goddamn water?"


	39. Starving In The Belly Of A Whale

Harvey ducked into the alleyway. The bitch that had been stalking him had finally fallen behind, and she would probably lose his trail here. He breathed a little sigh of relief as he leaned against a stained metal wall. He then began picking his way down the refuse-strewn corridor. Harold kept glancing behind him to made sure she wasn't following. And during one of those backwards glances something hit him hard in the head.

He managed to roll with the punch. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of his assailant. It was a muscular, dark-skinned man with merciless eyes. Harvey had a dagger in a sheath up his sleeve, and with a quick twist the blade slid into his waiting hand. He stabbed forward, aiming for the neck.

The big man ducked his head to the side and almost casually batted Harold's arm away. He punched again at Harvey's head, and this time Harvey wasn't able to roll with it.

When Harvey came to, he was trussed up like a turkey and staring into a pair of ice-blue eyes. It was the woman who had been stalking him. Harvey could feel the point of a knife pressing against his skin, just below his right eye.

"What the hell-" he began.

"Shut up," said the woman. Her voice was emotionless. "You will answer my questions. If you do not answer, I will take your eye. If you still do not answer, then I will take your toes one at a time. After that will be your fingers, followed by your manhood. I will leave your other eye until the very last, so that you can watch while I remove things. Do you doubt that I will do this?"

Harvey stared in fright up at that icy sapphire gaze. "No, I don't."

"You were passing Cerberus secrets to others. Who was your contact?"

"I wasn't-" Harvey felt the point of the knife slide almost painlessly into the skin below his eye. "A guy on the docks! His name is Jake, big guy with a scar on his neck! I hand him the data, he tells me where to pick up the payment! That's all I know!"

The knife point stopped moving. "Good. I have forwarded details of your extracurricular activities to The Illusive Man. I'm sure he will take appropriate measures."

Harvey felt a stab of hot fear in his guts. "Lady, you can't do that!"

"It's done." She cut a few strategic cords holding him. "You should be able to wriggle free in a few minutes. After that, I suggest that you run. For all the good that it will do you."

Harvey could only watch helplessly as the man and woman walked back out of the alleyway.

* * *

"Was that really necessary, Miranda?" asked Jacob. "Telling Cerberus about Harvey, I mean." They were on a shuttle that Miranda had 'acquired'. Jake had spilled his guts - fortunately in a metaphorical sense. Now they were flying to their next target. Jacob was going over their weapon inventory yet again. He was hoping to pick up a few more 'substantial' items at their next stop.

They had found at least one of the the leaks on the Cerberus side, and now they had to determine the identity of whomever was receiving the data. The most likely recipient was the Shadow Broker, but they had to make sure.

"Why care about Harvey? He works for Cerberus. And he is a traitor." Miranda flew the shuttle with absolute concentration, her face set in an expressionless mask.

"So are we."

"That's different," snapped Miranda. "We have sound reasons for our actions. Harvey is an opportunist. His betrayal is just motivated by coin."

Jacob noted her fingers whitening as she gripped the controls harder. "You can talk to me, Miranda. I know that...being reminded of what we've done is hard for you. It's hard for both of us."

"I'm fine." Then she seemed to deflate a little. "Sorry, Jacob. I shouldn't be angry with you. And I didn't tell Cerberus about Harvey just to be vindictive. We need to sow dissension within Cerberus as we go. It's better if they're chasing each other instead of the _Normandy_."

He smiled. "That makes sense. You always were the smarter one." Jacob stretched back in his chair. "But not necessarily the prettier one."

She laughed. "Well, I may not have your abs, Mr. Taylor, but I do all right regardless."

Jacob placed a hand on her shoulder. Miranda tilted her head to the side and pressed her cheek against his hand. "I couldn't do this without you," she said in a low voice. "Thank you for coming with me."

"It was the only thing I could do," he replied, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She lifted her head and looked at him. There was a teasing little glimmer in her eyes that he had come to know and treasure.

"You know, this shuttle _does_ have an autopilot," she said. "Let's use it."

* * *

They had turned the rear passenger compartment of the shuttle into an impromptu sleeping area. The bed-sheets were now thrashed and rumpled, and Jacob lay on his side and luxuriated in the feel of Miranda's bare body spooning against his front.

"I want you to do me a favor, Jacob." Miranda's voice was back to its usual tight control.

He kissed the back of her neck. "Anything. Well, almost anything. I ain't going near Jack anytime soon."

She didn't laugh. "Just promise me you'll live."

"What does that mean? We're both making it out of this."

Miranda snuggled back against him. "And then we live happily ever after?"

"Maybe. At least we can try."

"I don't deserve that."

"Miranda, look at me." At first Jacob thought she would ignore him, but then she finally wormed herself around to stare into his eyes. He gently stroked the back of her head. "You can't change what happened. We both thought we were doing the right thing. If you think you don't deserve a happy life, then just remember...you brought Shepard back. That wasn't Cerberus or The Illusive Man. That was _you_. If you hadn't been there, Project Lazarus would have failed."

Miranda looked down and tucked her head into his shoulder. "I was just doing as ordered. And so what? One more man is now alive. Does that excuse everything else I've done?"

He hugged her to him. "You don't believe that bullshit, babe. You've seen Shepard in action. If anyone can do something about the Reapers, it's him."

She said nothing, but Jacob could feel a slight dampness on his chest from her tears.

Finally he broke the silence. "I'll make that promise to you. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"You promise me something in return. Don't become a death seeker, Miranda. Getting yourself killed won't make amends."

* * *

"So then I sez, 'Jessie and I beg to differ', and this idiot thief looks around like he's expecting to see somebody else. Of course, all he does see is a me lookin' like I'm sitting against a tree and havin' a nap. Shitheel thought he had the drop on me. The idiot actually drops his gun a bit and asks me 'Who's Jessie?' and that's when I shot 'im. Had Jessie under my blanket the whole time. Couldn't aim with her sights, naturally, I just had to aim blind and hope I hit center-mass."

Zaeed laughed and continued. "Of course, I missed where I was aimin'. Damn luckiest shot I ever made. I was aimin' high, as it turns out. Bullet went up right between the eyes and plowed out a big chunk of his skull. And he looks at me and sez 'I can't _believe_ you shot me', and then falls over dead."

The mercenary laughed louder this time. "It was like he thought it was rude or something."

Thane smiled. While he had hoped that Kasumi's lounge would be unoccupied at this hour, it looked like Zaeed was starting early. Perhaps the mercenary had much the same problem as he did. Namely, how to combat boredom while the _Normandy_ was in transit. Zaeed was resorting to drinking, of course. And Thane was working on Garrus' little assignment. He had a holographic display laid out on the table in front of him while Zaeed sat on the sofa across from him.

He actually liked having Zaeed talk. Oddly, it helped him 'un-focus' and try to see patterns in the files that he might otherwise miss.

"What are you lookin' at, anyway?" asked Zaeed.

Thane moved a few files around on the display before replying. "We have a significant amount of data on Cerberus research activities, but much of it is still encrypted. Garrus asked me to have a look and see if I could find anything significant."

Zaeed grunted. "Hmm. Mind if I have a look?"

Thane gestured to his display. "Not at all. These are the files that I found to be the oddest. They concern places or areas of research that should not be of interest to Cerberus, and yet they have significant files."

Zaeed plonked himself down next to Thane and looked it over. "Buncha gobbeldygook for most of the text. That the encrypted part?" The drell nodded, and Zaeed chuckled. "Guess it's down to lookin' at pictures, then."

Thane paged over to the next set of files.

Zaeed scratched his head. "Something's off here."

"Indeed?" The drell looked over the new set. There was a few pictures scattered throughout the text. Here and there, a word would be in plaintext. "What do you see?"

The mercenary looked frustrated. "Dunno. Something about what I was just talking about...oh, I see it." He pointed at a picture of a desert planet. The southern half of the world was marked with a giant gash that spanned much of surface. The canyon was easily visible from orbit. "That picture. It looks like that thief's head after I shot 'im."

"A glancing shot from a bullet," mused Thane. He touched the picture and the file expanded to fill the display. "This is Klendagon. That feature is known as The Great Rift Valley."

"Real original name, eh?" laughed Zaeed. "So it's a canyon of some sort?"

"Yes...I found it curious that Cerberus had a large encrypted file about a common geological feature. The only remarkable thing about this canyon is its size."

Zaeed took another look at it. "It looks funny, don't it?"

Thane leaned forward. "How so?"

"I've hefted a rucksack through my fair share of canyons, right? The terrain around this one looks off. I can't explain it."

"Nor can I. But I think I see what you are driving at. I am not a geologist, but the ground around the Rift looks piled up more than it should be."

"I ain't a scientist, but I know the next best thing," said Zaeed. "So let's ask 'er. Hey EDI, you got this Cerberus file on Klendagon?"

"I do, Zaeed. Let me call it up into memory."

"This big rifty thing. Is that normal?"

"Standby, please. It appears there is some controversy in xeno-geology circles regarding the true origin of The Great Rift. It does not show the common features of a canyon formed via erosion, and Klendagon has no plate tectonic activity which could otherwise form such a feature."

Zaeed looked at the picture again. "It really does look like a bullet wound."

* * *

Garrus was facing a real quandary. On the one hand, it felt very nice to have Kasumi's soft and naked form wrapped around his torso. Even her gentle snoring was pleasant to listen to. But on the other hand, his left arm was trapped under her and slowly going numb. Plus he _really_ needed to pee. His deliberations were interrupted by EDI's soft voice.

"Garrus? My apologies for intruding, but I think we have something. I am notifying Shepard as well. I am putting together a meeting of senior staff in the conference room."

"You have something? Oh, the Cerberus data. Hang on, I'll be there in a bit." Garrus bent his head down and nuzzled the top of Kasumi's head. "I'm sorry to wake you, babe. But duty calls."

* * *

EDI's display above the conference room table showed the Great Rift of Klendagon. Shepard and the other senior staff were clustered around the table. "Klendagon's atmosphere does cause some minor wind erosion, which has allowed dating of the Great Rift. It is approximately 37 million years old, and it is not a naturally occurring feature. Once we had those two pieces of data, I was able to mostly decrypt the Cerberus file on the Great Rift. They have performed extensive studies on it, and have discovered its true nature."

"So what is it?" asked Shepard.

"It's a bullet wound," replied EDI. "The bullet, in this case, was a mass driver round of truly incredible power. Whomever fired it scored a glancing blow on Klendagon's crust."

"Why shoot at a planet, though?" asked Garrus. "And why did they miss?"

EDI's display began zooming out. Now there was a red line laid along the Great Rift. As the display kept expanding, the red line kept tracing back along towards the origin of the 'bullet'. "I believe that this was simply coincidence. The planet could not have been the primary target. Whatever they _were_ firing at was powerful enough to require such extreme firepower."

"Could a Reaper have been the target?" asked Mordin.

The display began expanding very rapidly now. Various star systems were coming into view, and the red line kept extending. "I believe so. Certainly it seems Cerberus did as well. I have performed an analysis which takes into account star motions over the last 37 million years, and concluded that the origin of the round was the Thorne system in the Hawking Eta cluster."

Shepard leaned forward to get a better look. "Did Cerberus perform the same analysis?"

"They did, Shepard. Among the files we obtained, I found several related to the brown dwarf Mnemosyne in the Thorne system. Since I now know much of what they discussed, my latest decryption has been mostly successful for those files. Cerberus has found the Reaper which was disabled by that mass driver round."

"Disabled?" said Donnelly incredulously. "It didn't kill the beastie?"

"No, Marcus. The Reaper is in orbit in the high atmosphere of Mnemosyne, and its mass effect drive is still active. Otherwise it would have long ago sunk into the core of the brown dwarf."

"Damn." The engineer shook his head. "They are tough bastards, for sure."

Shepard crossed his arms. "What has Cerberus done about this discovery? No wait, let me guess...they've sent in a science team to strip the thing bare."

"Indeed, Shepard. A large team was sent in about six months ago, led by one Dr. Chandana."

The Commander rubbed his forehead. "Great. Do you have any files which indicate that they took precautions against Indoctrination? Using rotating teams, that sort of thing?"

"None at all. Only the one team was sent. Perhaps that was to maintain secrecy."

Donnelly cleared his throat nervously. "Um, how long does Indoctrination take?"

"We're not sure," replied Garrus. "Saren took at least a year, but that was because Sovereign was proceeding slowly. The end result of Indoctrination is a mindless slave, and Sovereign wanted to keep Saren's mind intact for as long as possible."

"So it is possible that the Cerberus team could all be Indoctrinated by now," said Dr. Chakwas. "However, it's apparent that the Reapers' higher brain functions are dead, otherwise it would have left Mnemosyne long ago. If Indoctrination requires that higher functionality, then it might be safe. I wouldn't bet my life on it though."

"EDI," asked Garrus, "are there any reports from the science team? Anything to indicate that they found our 'IFF beacon'?"

"I have a few communications from Dr. Chandana that showed they were able to map out some of the Reaper's navigational systems. One of the components they removed appears to function much like the proposed 'IFF beacon'. They still have it on site, as far as I know."

Shepard nodded. "Good. Now we finally have something to do. I want a meeting of the ground team in one hour. We keep it simple - we smash in, grab the IFF, and run. If the beacon's not there, then at least we can find out where it was sent to."

* * *

At the moment, it didn't look like any 'smashing in' would be necessary. Joker couldn't detect any emissions from the Cerberus research team, and broadcasting 'prepare to be boarded' messages on standard Cerberus frequencies had caused no response. The horizon of the brown dwarf curved in a huge arc below the cockpit windows, and in the display over Joker's seat the disabled Reaper's position was highlighted.

"So what now?" asked Joker.

Shepard was fully armored and belted into the copilot's seat. "We go in, I guess."

Joker nodded and opened the ship-wide channel. "All right folks, we're heading towards the Re...the target. Everybody needs to be strapped in. I'm showing wind speeds gusting up to 500 kph in the upper atmosphere. The gas is pretty thin, but it will still be enough to give us a little chop."

The arc of Mnemosyne began to expand and flatten as the _Normandy_ dropped lower. A thin vibration began to run through the fabric of the ship. Shepard could feel it in his seat as the vibration got worse. The sharp delineation between planet and space now began to fuzz out; they were in the very outer layers of the brown dwarf's atmosphere.

The shaking got worse. Shepard was having a hard time focusing on the overhead display, which now showed the wreck in more detail. They were still several hundred kilometers away. The light through the cockpit windows took on an amber tone that reminded Shepard of sunset.

Shepard could now feel his teeth rattling together in his head. "You call this a little chop?" he asked half-seriously.

"No problem, Commander," replied Joker. "I got this."

The wireframe image of the wreck continued to get more detailed in the overhead display. In the center was the large, vaguely squid-like shape that Shepard remembered from his encounters with Sovereign. He could also see a large hole in one side of the Reaper's main body. That was probably the entrance wound for the mass driver round that had taken out the monstrosity. On the opposite side of the Reaper's body was what looked like a huge bite taken out of its side. That was the exit wound. Around the main body was a small constellation of smaller chunks of debris, all of them held exactly in place.

There was also something small and symmetrical parked next to the Reaper, something that was not debris. "I think I see the science team's ship," said Shepard.

"That's not them," replied Joker. "It's not transmitting any IFF, and our LADAR paints that silhouette as geth."

"Shit." This was a complication that Shepard didn't need. "I guess we know why the Cerberus team didn't respond to us." The derelict Reaper was now visible in the forward windows. At their angle of approach, it looked like a giant black hand reaching for the ship.

And then the shaking stopped. The _Normandy_ was flying serenely through some of the outer debris that surrounded the wreck.

"What just happened?" asked Shepard.

"The Reaper's mass effect fields are still active," replied Joker. "We just passed inside their envelope. Eye of the hurricane, right?"

Shepard opened the comm. "Ground team, report to the airlock. There are probably geth inside the Reaper, so this will be more of a fight and less of a simple smash-and-grab. Change your weapon loadouts accordingly."

* * *

"Don't be careful, Jack."

She gave Donnelly a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, lass, I thought I'd try a wee bit of reverse psychology. When I tell ye to be careful, you tell me to get bent and then go off and get intae fistfights with giant beetle beasties."

Jack gave a snort. "You are such a doofus. Come here." She grabbed the back of Donnelly's head and pulled him down for an open-mouthed kiss that made his head swim. She broke away and gently rubbed the back of his head. "How about you? Are you okay?" she asked as her big brown eyes searched his.

Donnelly had deliberately avoided looking at any of the external visual feeds since they had begun approaching the derelict Reaper. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of the nightmares he'd suffered since the Battle of the Citadel. "I'm fine, Jack. You just...look, just get in and get out, okay? I'll keep the motor running for you."

Jack smiled and pressed her forehead against his. Then she picked up her helmet and strolled out of Engineering.

* * *

The neck of the _Normandy_ very crowded right now as the ground team queued up to leave. Thanks to a little bit of fancy maneuvering on Joker's part, the _Normandy_ had managed to attach itself to the airlock that Cerberus had installed on the outer portion of the wreck.

Shepard felt a little bit of a thrill when he saw what Mordin was carrying. "Doctor, is that what I think it is?"

The salarian nodded, and handed the weapon over to him. Shepard ran a hand lovingly over its smooth exterior. The gun looked half-melted. The Commander had lusted after one of these Collector particle-beam weapons since seeing them in action on Horizon.

"Installed energy meter in back," said Mordin. "Also modified to accept standard high-energy cells. Thorough analysis shows that this is actually Prothean weapon, not of Reaper origin. Should be no danger of Indoctrination."

Shepard smiled. "Thanks, Mordin. I'm sure it will come in handy." He looked at the assembled team. "Right, everyone. We're forming two teams. The A-team will be me, Garrus, Jack, and Grunt. B-team will be Thane, Samara, Zaeed, and Kasumi. From EDI's files, it looks like there is one long pressurized corridor that the Cerberus team has set up into the derelict. A-team will take point, while B-team will fortify in place just inside the airlock. I don't want the geth getting in behind us and cutting us off. I also want everyone in both teams to be on constant alert, understand? Report everything you see, no matter how small or stupid. Especially if you encounter anything like odd voices or whispers."

* * *

The main airlock into the wreck was clean and sterile-looking. Beyond that was a large foyer that was clearly set up as the main storage area for the Cerberus team. There was no blood or evidence of firing; if the geth had wiped out the scientists, it must have happened deeper into the structure. Shepard found a log from the project head, Dr. Chandana.

Opening the video log showed a lean man with a craggy face and dark olive skin. He spoke in a precise, clipped tone. "The airlock has been installed at the far end of the holed section. We have begun pressurization for shirtsleeves work. The crew is edgy. I reassure them it's mere nerves. A superstitious reaction to what this hulk represents - the corpse of a vast, ancient life form." The man leaned closer to the camera. "Privately, I can't deny the atmosphere. The angles of the walls seem to press down on you. I find myself clenching my teeth."

There was a little silence after it ended. "That's just nerves, right?" asked Zaeed. "There's no way this thing could still be active after so long."

Shepard felt his jaw tighten. "We can't assume anything. We split up here. B-team, you've got our backs. If we get cut off, you push forward from here to relieve us. Zaeed, you're in charge of B-team. Call in every ten minutes, and report immediately if you see or hear anything strange. Move out, people." The four members of the A-team moved towards the main door into the rest of the Reaper, while the other team began to set up firing positions.

The next corridor was still the prefabricated pressurized walls that the science team had set up. If Shepard didn't know better, he could have sworn that he was in some random space station and not inside a cybernetic monstrosity that predated his own species. They found another log from a Cerberus scientist.

"We finished cataloging specimens A203 to B016. No evidence of active nanotechnology noted. Dr. Chandana believes they would have decayed over the last 37 million years. There's not enough data to support his claim. He asserts that the truth is 'patently obvious'. I am...concerned. Chandana has been staring at the samples for hours. He says he's 'listening' to them."

"Shit," said Shepard.

"That's bad, I take it?" asked Jack.

Garrus rolled his shoulder. He was clearly as worried as Shepard. "Saren had a facility set up on Vermire to study Indoctrination. We found a few of his...test subjects before they were too far gone. They described it as a voice whispering in your head."

"Too much talk," said Grunt. "We should keep moving forward, and see if there is anything to smash."

"You said it, buddy," added Jack.

Before they could move on, there was a huge rumble that ran through the deck below them.

Joker's voice broke into the main comm channel. " _Normandy_ to shore party!"

"What just happened?" asked Shepard.

The pilot sounded a little frantic. "The Reaper put up kinetic barriers all along its outside hull. I don't think we can get through to you from our airlock."

Shepard glanced back the way they came. He felt a little bit of sweat on his forehead. "Is this just an automated reaction, or is this damn thing waking up?"

EDI's voice was cool and calm. It helped Shepard get a little of his composure back. "I believe this is an automated response. The _Normandy_ is much larger than the geth ship, and I postulate that we were large enough to trigger this defense. I am detecting no evidence of systems-wide activation. The Reaper still appears quite dead."

Shepard blew out a breath. "Okay, so we'll have to take down the barriers from inside here. Any idea where the controls would be?"

EDI paused as she thought. "At the moment of activation, I detected a heat spike in what is likely the wreck's mass effect core. Sending the coordinates now. Be advised, this core is also what is maintaining the Reapers' altitude."

The Commander rolled his eyes. "Of course. So when we do take the barriers down to escape, the wreck falls into the core of the brown dwarf."

Joker sounded just as pissed off as Shepard. "And then everyone dies. Yeah, got it."

Shepard smiled, even though he knew Joker couldn't see it. "If any helmsman can pull this off before we reach crush depth, it's you. We'll make a sweep for survivors and recover what data or tech that we can. B-team, stand by. If the barriers go down, you run your asses for the _Normandy_. Don't wait for us, understand?"

"Oh, we'll be running, don't you worry," replied Zaeed. "This place is giving me the shivers already."

At the end of the corridor, the door opened...and then they walked out into the Reaper proper.

Shepard felt a little bit of constriction in his chest as he looked up. They were in a huge, cavernous space that stretched off to the right and left. The Cerberus team had set up walkways and stairs over and through the vast alien architecture. Overhead stretched huge tubes the size of subway trains. They were colored dark gray and covered with odd twisting hieroglyphics. There was a dim blue light that suffused the scene, accented here and there by the bright orange lights that Cerberus had placed.

Jack was the first one to speak. "It was one thing to see it out of the window. But now that we're inside it...it's true. All of it. The Reapers are _real_." Shepard glanced over and saw her eyes were huge behind her visor. He could hear her breath getting faster.

"Jack," he said softly. She locked eyes with him as he continued. "You know what else is true? We killed one."

The manic look in her eyes faded. "Right, Boss. Damn right. It's just a big machine, and machines can be smashed."

Shepard laughed. "So I've heard. Come on, let's move."

There was another log, this one even more disturbing. It was the scientist from the previous log talking with another researcher.

"You're married?" said the scientist. "You never mentioned that."

The other researcher laughed. "Yeah, she's a firecracker. Katy has always had anger management issues. When my brother got married, the best man tried to hit on her. She kicked him down the church steps."

The scientist looked confused. "What? Katy's my wife! I must have told you the story."

"No, I know my wife. That day was the only time I saw her wear stockings."

"Yeah, the kind with the seam up the back. That's what I remember too..."

The second man shook his head. "What the hell is this? How can we remember the same thing? I thought your wife was Doreen."

"No, Doreen was Phil's wife...wasn't she? But she had that way of tilting her head and tucking back her hair."

"Tucking her hair behind her ear," replied the researcher. "Yeah. She knew that gesture always got my blood going. But...no, my wife is Katy!-"

The video mercifully ended at that point.

Now Grunt was the first one to speak. "It reminds me of the tank," said the krogan. They all looked at him in surprise. "Okeer's voice was strong when he imprinted me. Even now, his voice whispers to me. It is sometimes difficult to separate my memories from his. It helps that I am young. I can only imagine how hard it would be if I had an entire lifetime of my own memories to keep separated."

Shepard blinked. "That's...that's very astute, Grunt. I wonder if this is some facet of Indoctrination."

"Or something worse," replied Garrus. "Maybe-"

The turian was cut off by a low wailing moan from a lower platform off to their right.

"HUSKS!" yelled Jack. Without waiting for any order, she began throwing shockwaves down the stairs.

There were indeed husks pulling themselves over the edges of the platform. Once upright, they began running at the four of them with that odd, hunched-over gait. Long hours of training now paid off as they all assumed their roles. Grunt and Shepard moved forward to blunt any attacks with guns and fists, while Garrus picked off the ones running towards the fray. Jack broke up clumps of them with shockwaves and the occasional shotgun blast if they got too close.

After a bit, the attacks faded away. They regarded the glowing blue corpses spread about on the platform. "Well," said Shepard. "I guess we know what happened to the science team."

"Was this due to the Reaper, or did the geth do this?" asked Garrus.

Shepard shrugged. "It doesn't matter at this point. EDI, can you read us?"

"Yes, Shepard."

"Are we still heading towards the drive core?"

"Affirmative. You should also be approaching the area where they recovered the Reaper's 'IFF beacon'."

"B-team, how are you doing?"

"All quiet here, Shepard," replied Zaeed. "No voices or strange stuff."

"Good. A-team, move out."

The next few platforms didn't have any surprises, but then as they came up the stairs to the next platform a couple of husks began to totter out from around the corner and towards them. Shepard didn't even have time to get his rifle up before they had their heads removed by a single shot to each of them. The shots came from deeper within the Reaper.

They automatically dropped to the deck when the shots were fired. Garrus was the first to rise and take a peek around the next corner. "I couldn't see the shooter," he said. "A survivor from the science team, maybe?"

Shepard pushed himself up. "If so, then we need to be careful. We can't assume that they're friendly. They may be Indoctrinated and not yet realize it."

They ducked and weaved around the corner into the next space. This was a huge platform that overlooked another vast tunnel that led deeper into the Reaper. Before they could properly begin to search the place, they were attacked again. The initial wave of husks was not a big deal at first. There were plenty of crates and tanks to hide behind. But during the firefight there was another taller nightmare shape that emerged from a nearby alcove.

"Scion," said Shepard through gritted teeth. "Garrus, focus on that."

The turian complied, and the tall shape rocked as the sniper put a round right into the thing's bulbous head. They had to dodge the shockwave that the scion sent out in response, and Grunt wound up isolated and surrounded by husks.

The krogan's head was split in a huge grin as he began to lay into his attackers with his stony fists. A husk clambered up his back and tried to bite down through his headplate. Shepard cursed and went into overdrive. The entire world seemed to slow, as if everyone was moving through molasses. He calmed his breath and set up his shots. The first went through the head of the husk on top of Grunt. He sent the next five shots through each attacker around the krogan, then snapped back into normal speed.

The husks on top of and around Grunt formed a frozen tableau for one moment, and then all of them dropped dead. The krogan nodded at Shepard. "Battlemaster, it is a pleasure to see you in action."

Shepard resisted the urge to roll his eyes, then dove for cover as another shockwave from the scion ripped past him. Jack was able to stagger the thing with a biotic blast of her own, and then Garrus dropped it with one final shot through its head.

They breathed for a bit as the adrenaline wore off. "Sound off," snapped Shepard. "Is anyone hurt? Grunt, get your ass over here and let me look at you."

"I am fine, Battlemaster," said Grunt as he stomped over.

"Your notions of 'fine' can be a little skewed, my friend," replied Shepard. He gave the huge alien a quick once-over. "But yeah, this time you seem to be okay."

Jack, in the meantime, began searching the platform. "Another video log here, dudes," she said. "I'm feeling pretty creeped out by now, so I'm not gonna be the first one to play it."

"Why Jack," said Garrus as he walked towards her with a turian grin. "I'm amazed. You seem to be actually mortal after all."

"Bite me, bird-boy," replied Jack with a answering grin.

They both looked at the OSD that Jack had found. "Oh, just play it," said Shepard.

It turned out to be one of the scientists they'd seen previously. The man's eyes were sunken and haunted. He spoke in a hoarse whisper, and occasionally looked behind him as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. "Chandana said the ship was dead. We trusted him. He was right. But even a dead god can dream. A god - a real god - is a _verb_. Not some old man with magic powers. It's a force. It warps reality by just being there." The scientist dropped his head and shook it, as if to try to remove some kind of irritation.

"It doesn't have to want to," he continued. "It doesn't have to think about it. It just _does_. That's what Chandana didn't get. Not until it was too late. The god's mind is gone, but IT still dreams. IT knows now. IT'S tuned in on our dream. If I close my eyes I can feel IT. I can feel every one of us."

He looked back up at the camera. "Who is my wife?" he whispered. "Is it Katy, or is it Doreen? Katy did that thing with her hair...no, that was Doreen. Or was it Doreen who kicked the best man down the stairs..." He paused, and a thin rivulet of blood began to run out of his nose. "I can't remember right," he whimpered, and then his eyes rolled back in his head. His head snapped forward and into the camera, bouncing back off of it. There was a small drop of blood on the lens and a large bleeding gash on the man's forehead. The man then began hammering his head forward repeatedly into the camera, and the screen became more and more coated with blood and tissue with each blow. Shepard finally reached forward and shut off the video.

"Shepard, look here," said Grunt from the end of the platform. The Commander took a moment to compose himself before walking over to the krogan. Grunt pointed. "What is that?". In the space beyond the platform were six huge spikes, each of which impaled a human form. This was all too familiar to Shepard.

"These are what we call dragon's teeth," he said to Grunt. "The geth used them on Eden Prime." He looked around and saw that everything around them had been moved to face the spikes. Shepard gestured at the platform. "Do you see how the room is arranged? They treated this thing like some kind of altar."

Garrus looked around and nodded. "It does look like that, but why would they want this to happen?"

"You heard the logs," replied the Commander. "They were seeing things. Hearing things. They were being Indoctrinated."

One of the side passages off of the platform led to another airlock. "EDI, where does this lead?" asked Shepard.

"There is a gangway beyond this passage. It leads along the side of the Reaper, and is the most direct path to the mass drive core."

"Got it. Okay, everybody suited up?" After a chorus of 'ayes', Shepard opened the inner door.

"Equalizing pressure," said a synthetic voice. "Please exercise caution. Safety is a Cerberus priority. This facility has had...five...days since its last accident."

Beyond the airlock was a large space flooded with amber light. One whole side was simply not there, and they could look right out into the roiling brown clouds of Mnemosyne. Shepard went in first with his rifle up. "Check corners and the edges of the floor. They like to crawl up from there."

The team had made it only a few meters along the gangway when Shepard felt a thump behind him. He threw himself to the side as a husk barreled forward into the space where he'd just been. Shepard felt a little panic as he rolled and came up on one knee. Where the _hell_ had that husk come from? He switched into overdrive again and aimed at the husk. As time slowed down, he could see two other husks also attacking the team from behind.

Before he could shoot, he saw the husk's head fly apart and back in a slow and graceful arc of blood and cybernetics. He shifted his aim to one of the others, only to see his new target's head also begin to come apart in slow motion. The third husk's head followed suit right after.

Whoever the shooter was, they were just as fast as Shepard. He rolled again as he switched back into normal time, then spun around and aimed his rifle back towards where the shots had come from. Framed in the orange light from outside was-

"Can't be," murmured Garrus.

It was a geth.

The machine had the same sloping head and single glaring eye that Shepard had seen all too much of during the chase after Saren. Its limbs were the same sinuous biomechanical musculature as other geth. This particular specimen had a gaping hole through one side of its torso. The oddest thing about it was the red-and-gray piece of armor strapped to its right shoulder. Shepard stared in amazement. That looked like a part of _his_ old armor, from the original _Normandy_.

The geth lowered the rifle in its hands. Its big bright eye stared at Shepard for a moment as little flaps twitched and raised around its hood. After a brief moment, it nodded its head as if in respect.

"Shepard-Commander." The geth's voice had an electronic twang that stretched out certain vowels. It casually slung its rifle back over its shoulder and trotted off out of sight.

They all stared after it in amazement for several seconds.

"What the _fuck_ , over?" yelled Jack.


	40. Cemetery Polka

Donnelly tried to ignore how hard he was gritting his teeth. He kept telling himself to stop being such a dunderhead. This was just another mission, and nothing more. Never mind the fact that the supposedly 'dead' Reaper had somehow activated kinetic barriers right after the ground team was on board. Never mind that Jack was now trapped on board the damn thing.

It was just another mission, right?

"Are you okay, Marcus?" asked Tali.

He looked down and realized that he was gripping the edge of the main board very hard. Donnelly almost brushed off the question with an automatic _I'm fine_ , but reconsidered.

"I'll survive, Tali. It's just nerves. Too many bad memories coming back up with that damn beastie outside."

He felt the quarian touch his shoulder. "Jack will be fine. I've seen her in action, and I know she's too damn mean to die."

Donnelly did relax a little bit at that. After all, Tali's paramour was also stuck inside the guts of that biomechanical horror. "And I'm sure Shepard will come waltzing out of there as well," he replied.

"He'd better," growled Tali. "He and I have a special date, and I'm not letting a silly little thing like a Reaper get in the way."

* * *

"So how does a geth know you?" Jack's face was set in a suspicious frown.

Shepard was not having any of it. "Damn it, I don't know! If anything, I'm number one on their hit list. I've certainly killed enough of them. But that one just...said hello and walked off." He shook his head. "Never mind. We have a job to do, and no way back until we reach the drive core." He looked ahead. There was a series of stairs and platforms that ran along the side of the Reaper, with a yawning chasm off to one side leading into the oblivion of Mnemosyne's atmosphere. "I still think there's some instinct driving this fucking thing. There's gonna be plenty of opposition between us and the core." He looked over at Grunt. "You should use it."

The krogan gave a wide grin. "About time!" There was a loud _clack_ as Grunt slung the OMFG off of his shoulder and cocked it. "I was wanting to use it before."

Shepard snorted. "Before we thought there might be scientists on board. That damn gun tends to go through walls, and I didn't want to hurt any of them." He looked forward. "By now, I'm sure they've all been turned into husks or worse."

"Shit." Jack's frown had turned into a mask of concentration.

Shepard knew that meant she was scared. "Stay frosty, people. Just do it by the numbers, like we've trained."

They moved forward, their boots clanging against the deck-plates. Shepard heard nothing from his squad but the sound of their breathing, until...

"Contact right!" snapped Garrus. Four muzzles swung and blasted away at a blue-glowing form that was clambering over the edge of the platform. Shepard saw something else move out of the corner of his eye.

"More are coming. Form a wedge," he said. They flowed into a flying 'V' shape as they moved forward, with Shepard and Grunt at the tip of the wedge. More glowing humanoid shapes clambered over the sides of the platform. A few of them glowed red instead of blue. "Keep an eye on the red ones," said Shepard. "We don't know what they do-"

One of the red-glowing husks ran at Grunt much more quickly than his brethren. The krogan gave the thing a blast from the OMFG which tumbled the red husk backward, and then-

BOOOM

The red husk detonated with a shock wave that threw them all to the deck.

"HA!" Grunt sounded like a kid in a candy store. "The red ones explode!"

"Yes, very fun for you I'm sure," grumbled Shepard as he pushed himself back upright. "Sound off. Anyone hurt?"

After getting three 'nos' in response, the Commander motioned them forward. There was something that looked like a large metal container in the middle of the platform, and just as they approached it a lower, louder moan sounded and the bulbous shape of a Scion came tottering around the corner on spindly legs.

"Damn!" Shepard hit the thing with a concussive shot and staggered it, while simultaneously it threw a shockwave through their group. He tumbled to the side and raised up on his elbows to give it another shot. As the round hit home, there was more movement at the platform edges.

"Fall back," he snapped into the comm. "Garrus, get a good perch."

"On it," replied the turian. The other three fell back to the stairs, with Shepard and Grunt dealing out shots as Jack used her own shockwaves to keep the husks from rushing them all at once. Garrus was able to get the Scion down within a minute, and then there was silence again.

"Garrus, where are you?" Shepard looked around but couldn't see his friend.

"I'm on a little gangway up to your left," said Garrus. "It looks like it's a straight shot towards the core. It's probably too small for Grunt, though."

The Commander nodded. "Understood. You stay there and move along with us while you keep oversight. Sing out if you see something." He turned to the other two. "Okay, the next platforms we go forward and tease 'em out, then fall back to the stairs and clean them out like we just did. Garrus will take care of any larger threats."

They quickly fell into a rhythm of advancing, waiting for the husks to emerge, and then falling back and dispatching them. Meanwhile Garrus had scouted ahead and tagged a couple of Scions that had been lying in wait further ahead.

The team finally made it to the final platform, which had airlock leading to the drive core. Garrus swung himself down from the gangway as they approached. "That will be locked, I'm sure," said the turian.

Shepard checked the control panel. "Actually, no. Somebody's bypassed it already."

"I think I can guess who," said Jack. "Our mystery geth."

Grunt laid the barrel of the OMFG onto his shoulder. "Perhaps he is attempting to do as we are, and disable the drive core."

"We can't assume anything," replied Shepard. "We have to make sure. Okay, Grunt, you take point as I open this."

The krogan nodded and set himself in front of the door as Shepard toggled it open. The airlock was empty. They did the same for the inner door, which opened onto a small corridor. This was also the same pre-fab Cerberus architecture as before. In a little alcove to one side was a storage area with several containers.

"Shepard," said EDI. "According to the logs I have been able to access, the IFF beacon should be right there."

A little rummaging through the containers turned up a piece of biomechanical hardware. Shepard looked suspiciously at the gleaming gray lump. It was no bigger than his fist.

"That's it?" asked Grunt.

"Indeed it is," replied EDI. "Do not let its appearance fool you. That single piece of hardware has an informational density more than that of organic brain tissue."

"Well, at least we've got what we came for," said Shepard. "Now we just need to get out of here. Move out."

They carefully continued down the corridor towards a corner. Grunt took a peek around and waved them forward. The end of the corridor opened onto the room containing the Reaper's drive core. It was a swirling mass of blue light held within a gigantic hoop of metal. The room itself was huge, easily big enough to fit the _Normandy_ into it. On a platform in front of the drive core was a surprisingly small control panel.

The mystery geth was indeed at the drive core controls. Its hands manipulated two small levers as it carefully examined the drive core's fluctuations. As Shepard's team approached the door, it threw a glance behind towards them and touched a switch on the panel. A kinetic barrier snapped into place in front of them, preventing them from entering.

"Damn," muttered Shepard. "EDI, are you getting our video feed? Can you tell what the geth is doing?"

"I believe it is attempting to drop the drive core's power output by a specified amount. If it can achieve this, then the kinetic barriers should drop automatically while keeping the derelict at its current altitude."

Shepard gritted his teeth. He hated not being able to do something. Especially since it meant he had to rely on a geth. "B Team, stand by and make ready to pull back into the _Normandy_ the moment those barriers go down."

"Got it, Shepard," replied Zaeed.

An all-too-familiar moan sounded from the room in front of them. Several husks came into view and ran at the geth. The robot stopped its manipulation and turned to meet them. It had a pistol in one three-fingered hand and dropped the husks with quick, well-placed shots. But the moans kept rising, and still more husks were coming into view.

Shepard waved his arms, trying to get the geth's attention.

"Boss? What're you doing?" asked Jack.

He ignored her. "Let us in!" he yelled, hoping that the machine would see the sense in allowing in reinforcements. The geth tilted its head, then reached back towards the control panel as it was swarmed by a black-and-blue tidal wave.

The barrier into the room went down and the _Normandy_ team charged in. "Watch your fire!" yelled Shepard. "Don't hit the control panel!"

Grunt barreled forward like a linebacker, scattering several husks. He grabbed two more and tossed them into the walls like they weighed nothing. Shepard rolled his eyes. "Okay, that works too. Jack, Garrus, watch our backs."

He ran to join Grunt. A glowing black-and-blue head swung towards him and he threw a straight punch into it that caved in its skull. While he wasn't anywhere near a strong as the krogan, his cybernetics still let him deal out one hell of a punch. Within less than a minute the last husk was down. Shepard looked at the control panel and breathed out a sigh. The console was a smoking wreck. The geth was curled up at the base of the panel's column. It looked to be somehow disabled. Maybe the husks had some kind of knockout effect on geth circuitry?

The destruction of the panel must have triggered some sort of automated protection protocol. Two metal hemispheres slammed over the glow of the drive core, hiding it from sight. The automation itself looked to be corrupted, however, since the hemispheres didn't stay shut. They began slamming open and closed with no apparent rhythm.

Shepard shook his head in exasperation. "EDI, can you access the core? Or is the control panel too badly damaged?"

"I cannot do anything from here, Shepard. I am afraid you will have to destroy the drive core using brute force."

"Got it." Shepard unslung the particle beam weapon as more husk moans filled the room. "Of course there's more," he muttered. "Why should this be easy? Now open wide..." He pointed the weapon at the smooth metal hemispheres protecting the drive core, waiting for them to open.

They did, and he pulled the trigger. A brilliant white beam stabbed into the blue heart of the drive core, emitting a piercing shriek as it did so. The entire wreck of the Reaper heaved, throwing Shepard's aim off. The hemispheres slammed back shut as the room filled with the ululating moan of biomechanically corrupted humanity.

* * *

There was a shudder that ran through the _Normandy_. Donnelly saw Oriana blanch a little behind her helmet. "What was that?" she gasped.

Tali's hands were flying over her console. "Mass effect field fluctuation from the derelict. It looks like they're attacking the drive core."

"I'm getting an alarm from the inner starboard nacelle," said Oriana. "That jolt might have knocked something loose."

"I'm on it," replied Donnelly. He ran a trace and felt a cold prickle on the back of his neck. "Shit. It's an outside junction."

"Engineering, Conn," said Joker's voice over the comm.

"Go, Engineering," snapped Donnelly.

"Doing station-keeping just got really hard. Did we lose any control thrusters?"

"One pod," said Donnelly. "I think one of the outer junctions got banged by a little piece of debris on our way in. That last shake must have knocked it loose."

"We need to keep physical contact with the airlock to get B Team out," said Joker. "I'm having to fight it pretty hard right now."

Donnelly's shoulders slumped. "Aye, it needs fixing." He turned to Tali. "You've got the main board until I get back."

"What?" Tali tilted her head. "No, Marcus, I should go, you can't do that again!"

He shook his helmet. "You've got the board. My ship, my responsibility. Hey, at least nobody's shooting at us this time, eh?"

Oriana put a hand on his arm. "You're going out?"

"It's all right, lass. I'll have a safety tether, after all." He gave a graveyard laugh and jogged towards the supply locker.

* * *

There was an emergency airlock just outside Engineering. For the tenth time Donnelly made sure he had extra grapples attached to his suit's belt along with two tethers. If he was going clambering outside a warship again, he was damn well going to make sure he could hold on properly. The outer door of the airlock opened to reveal the roiling brown clouds of Mnemosyne outside. Donnelly grabbed the edge of the door frame and pulled himself up. Now that he was outside of the _Normandy's_ artificial gravity, his movement was a lot easier. He still had to take into account his inertia, however, so he carefully pulled himself up and along the ship's hull. Fortunately this was on the other side of the ship from the wreck of the Reaper, so he at least didn't have to look at that.

Donnelly clambered along the underside of the wing that led out to the starboard nacelles. He hooked and unhooked his tethers into handholds as he went along, making sure to always keep one attached at all times.

The general comm crackled. "Dammit, keep them at distance!" yelled Shepard. Donnelly heard the _boom_ of Grunt's OMFG.

"On it, Boss," said Jack's voice. He knew her well enough to know that she was scared. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but there was no time for that now. Also, the last thing she needed was a distraction. He reached the first nacelle and began pulling himself up along the inside of it. He could feel the _Normandy_ twist underneath him as he climbed; Joker's attempts to keep contact with the airlock into the Reaper were getting harder.

As he reached the top of the nacelle, he could _feel_ the presence at his back. He knew he shouldn't look. And yet his head turned as if on a pivot to look at the vast black bulk that stretched alongside the _Normandy_. He could hear his breath rasping louder in his helmet as fear gripped his heart. He tried to tell himself to stop being foolish. The Reaper was a ruin, it was smashed to hell and gone. There was nothing left to fear.

And yet he could somehow hear a small voice in the back of his head.

 _Donnelly._

He wrenched his head away with great effort. Nonsense. There was no voice. It was all bad memories and a case of nerves. He had a job to do, and it was time to do it. The bad thruster pod should be close by. As Donnelly cast his eyes around, he saw it. Sure enough, there was a long scar in the hull leading up to the pod. He clambered along the hull towards it...just as he heard the voice again.

 _I know you._

"Ach, fook off ya great lump 'o shite," he muttered as he got to work. He set three clamping tools into the hull of the ship and made sure he was tied to all of them, then opened the cover plate to the pod.

* * *

Shepard fired the particle beam again as the core's armor slammed open. There was another tremor underfoot, but this time he was ready for it and kept the beam more or less on target. He ignored the shouts of his teammates around him and the moaning of husks. His focus narrowed to nothing but the drive core; as the beam tore through it, he could see it falter.

There was a presence at his shoulder, and instinctively he knew it wasn't anyone friendly. Shepard snapped his elbow back and felt his armor crunch into the nose of a husk. The thing's arms flailed as it tried to grapple him, and he bared his teeth as he struck again and again. The husk toppled over with most of its head gone.

He heard the core armor slam back open behind him and he spun and fired again. That was enough; the blue glow of the core finally spasmed and collapsed.

* * *

Sweat trickled into one of Donnelly's eyes as he slammed the cover plate shut. "Done!"

"That's much better," said Joker, just as a vast wind hit the _Normandy_. Donnelly had one hand on a clamping tool, but that wasn't enough and he was knocked flat against the hull. The only thing that kept him from bouncing away was the multiple anchors he'd set. His pained cry of alarm resounded in his helmet.

"Marcus, are you okay?" asked EDI. Donnelly's teeth clenched as he pulled himself back upright.

"What the fook?" he yelled.

"Both the Reapers's mass effect field and its kinetic barriers are down," said Joker. "They must have taken out the core."

* * *

There was another, larger tremor that nearly threw Shepard to his knees. "Sound off!" he yelled. "Status!"

"All good, Boss. I think you got the last of them." Jack jogged up to the console, followed quickly by the others.

Shepard felt the deck continue to vibrate under him. "B team, get your ass to the _Normandy_!"

Zaeed's voice panted in his ear. "We're already there, Shepard. You get out as well."

"We can't make it all the way back there in time," said Garrus. "Can they come pick us up outside the airlock?"

"Sure thing," said Joker. "Soon as Marcus gets back inside, we'll be on our way to get you."

Jack's eyes went wide behind her visor. "Assface? What is he doing?"

The Chief Engineer's drawl cut into the general comm. "Nothin' I haven't done before, lass. Get yer bum outta there, and let me worry about the rest."

"What about that thing?" Grunt pointed at the geth that was still sprawled in front of the console. "You want it for target practice?"

"Bring it," said Shepard simply. "Tali said that no one's ever captured a geth intact. I need to know what's going on."

"You know the risk," replied Garrus. "That's all I'm going to say."

Shepard just looked at him, and the turian sighed. "Anyone want to give me a hand?" He grabbed underneath one of the geth's shoulders as Grunt grabbed the other. The entire room shook as the team stumbled for the exit. As they reached the door of the airlock, Shepard heard more husks moaning behind them.

* * *

"Get back to the airlock, Marcus," said EDI. "The B Team is inside."

He looked down and estimated it would take him at least two minutes to get back to the emergency airlock. Two minutes of them all sinking deeper into the crushing atmosphere of Mnemosyne. "No time," he said. "Go get the others."

"No way," said Joker. "This is gonna be rough. You can't possibly hold on."

"I'm fastened down well enough, now go!"

He clung to the hull as the _Normandy_ broke away from the airlock and slewed to starboard. The ship began racing back alongside the hull of the Reaper as that damn voice kept sounding in his head.

 _Donnelly. Join._

He ignored it and gripped tight with both hands onto one of the clamping tools. This physical sensation was reality. Muscle and metal and bone and electricity, that was truth. Not some bloody stupid voice in his head.

* * *

Jack saw the sleek delta shape of the _Normandy_ rise up from below. The wind howled and the platform shook; the Reaper's mass effect field was gone, and they were now fully exposed to the fury of Mnemosyne's atmosphere. She had to damn near get down on her knees to keep her balance in the wind. A husk came lumbering out of the airlock towards them, and she gave it a shockwave that threw it out into nothingness.

She glanced behind her and saw Grunt and Garrus pitch the inactive geth towards the _Normandy's_ airlock. The synthetic sailed limply through the void, followed quickly by the turian and the krogan.

"Jack, go!" snapped Shepard.

"Go yourself, Boss. I'm right behind you." She gave a husk a shotgun blast that spun it around and then ran for the edge of the platform herself. She saw Shepard make the jump with perfect form, his arms tucked back and his legs trailing. Jack felt a little tingle as she gathered herself and leapt herself. This wasn't quite as thrilling as sex or killing, but it was the next best thing. She sped through the brown murk towards the _Normandy_.

She could see something on the outer wing. A small and vulnerable gray figure that clung to one of the nacelles. Jack's breath caught in her throat.

"Assface?" she whispered.

He must have heard her, because the distant figure raised one arm and gave her a thumbs-up gesture. That was the last thing Jack saw before the edge of the _Normandy's_ airlock cut off her view. The outer door slammed shut behind her.

Shepard looked around as he counted heads. "We're all in, go!"

Jack slammed one armored fist into the airlock's wall. "No! Give him time to get back in!"

"We're getting too deep, lass," said Donnelly's voice. "I'm tied in as well as can be. Move yer arse, Joker."

Jack screamed in helpless frustration as the ship began to accelerate.

* * *

Donnelly hooked an elbow through one of the clamps and clung as the wind buffeted his legs against the ship. He stared at the hull underneath him, trying not to think about the void that yawned just a few meters away. The voice in his head kept sounding.

 _Donnelly. Join us._

"Fook off. You're not real."

 _We know you. Join._

He said nothing. At least the voice seemed to be getting fainter. Something banged off of the hull next to him, and Donnelly snapped his helmet up. Now that the Reaper's drive was completely dead, the debris that had been orbiting the wreck was now being blown around. Some of it was coming their way.

"Joker!" he yelled. "Big chunk o' stuff coming up to starboard!"

"I see it, dude," said the pilot's voice. "How are you doing?"

"Hanging in there, heh. Literally."

Jack's voice now cut in. "You do not have my permission to die, Assface. Is that clear?"

"As crystal, lass. Glad to hear your voice."

The wind got worse. One of the anchors creaked alarmingly. Donnelly knew that he also had a tether hooked in, but if the anchors failed then he'd be banged against the hull like a conker on a string until he was turned into jam. His hardsuit would keep his corpse together, but that was all. No, he had to hold on. There was a flicker of shadow overhead, and Donnelly looked up.

He missed seeing the piece of debris that smashed into his right leg.

The pain was quite amazing. He couldn't scream at first. Fortunately his instinct was to grip tighter onto his anchor. After a moment of pure agony, he managed to howl in pain.

"Marcus!" Jack sounded frantic.

"Joker, are we high enough?" Shepard sounded almost as stressed.

"Not yet, Commander. Give it another minute."

Donnelly could almost hear Jack's jaw set. "FUCK your minute! I'm going out to get him!"

"Jack, stand down!" Shepard was using his Command Voice, but Donnelly could tell that wasn't going to work this time.

"I'm...okay...lass," he managed to wheeze out. It felt like his right leg had been dipped in molten metal; the pain just kept coming. Fortunately his suit had sealed off around his thigh, so at least he still had air. But with the pain he knew he was close to passing out. And if that happened he was a good as dead. "Stay there, just...keep talking to me, okay? Keep me awake."

"Okay." Jack sounded close to tears. "You hang in there, you hear me? You're too fucking stubborn to die."

Donnelly remembered what Tali had just said, and managed a ghost of a chuckle. "Heh. And you're too mean to die."

"Too fucking right. You and me, we're living through this, you got it?"

"Right, lass." The anchor creaked again, and the wind slammed his legs into the hull once more. "AAAH!"

"Hang on, folks, almost out of the atmosphere." Joker's voice was tight and composed, a sure sign he was also close to losing it.

Donnelly could see black sky beginning to show overhead, and thought that he might just make it. And that was when the anchor he was holding finally broke loose from the hull. He grabbed at another one, and just managed to get one hand onto it. There was a few seconds of triumph as he thought he'd be able to hold on, but then his fingers slipped off and he bounced down the hull. There was a huge snap as he reached the end of his tether and all went black.

* * *

He felt pain, nothing but pain. However he figured that was good news. After all, he had to be alive to feel pain, right? He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt heavy as lead.

"Uahh?" he managed to croak.

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Assface?"

He managed a chuckle. "Guess I was stubborn enough, eh lass?"

Jack's lips pressed against his forehead. "You were, you big lug. Now get some sleep."

* * *

The next time he woke the pain was definitely less. He was also able to open his eyes and see the ceiling of the _Normandy's_ medbay. He looked around. He'd been put into a hospital gown at some point. Jack was curled up and sleeping in a chair nearby. He was a little surprised that nobody else was in there.

Donnelly regarded Jack for a moment as she slept. She was wearing a leather vest and shorts that showed quite an amazing amount of thigh. The sight of that gave him a little warm sensation down below, so he figured he couldn't be _that_ badly hurt. The almost-sneer she normally wore was gone. Fortunately it looked like she hadn't been hurt herself during the mission on the derelict Reaper. Jack might be disappointed about that; she always liked showing him any new scars.

"Hey," he croaked.

Jack was awake in an instant and leaning over him. She gripped his face in both hands. "If you ever try anything like that again, I will..." she trailed off, then kissed him hard. He tried to return the kiss as best he could, but felt a warning pang of pain from his abdominal muscles. Jack broke the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. "You don't need to impress me, okay?"

He nodded and felt a smile on his face. "Okay, lass."

"How do you feel?"

"Like Grunt was using me as a punching bag. Where's the doc?"

"I sent her to bed. It's been a couple of days since Mnemosyne, and she's been here without a break since then."

Donnelly leaned back. "So how bad is it?"

Jack looked away as if she didn't meet his eyes. He began to feel a little bit of panic. "Jack?"

"Just...don't freak out, okay?"

He tried to sit up and look down at himself, but Jack held him down. "Before you look...I'm still here, okay? I'm not going anywhere." Then she slid a hand under his back and helped him sit up.

There was a sheet obscuring the lower portion of his body. He could see his left leg outlined underneath it. But starting where his right knee should have been the sheet was flat against the bed.

"Oh," he said.

"The leg was smashed, Marcus. Between that and the banging around you took, the doc wasn't able to save it." Jack snuggled her head under his chin and hugged him.

He sat for a moment, trying to take in what had happened. Suddenly a random thought hit him and he laughed.

"Assface?"

Donnelly stroked her shaved scalp. "I guess I can get a peg leg now. All I need is an eyepatch and I'll be a proper space pirate."

Her head shook against his chest as she giggled. "That's the spirit." She leaned back and looked up at him. "Seriously though, prosthetics are awesome. You can get one just as good as the original."

"Until then, I guess I'll have to hold off on me tap-dancin' lessons."

Jack laughed, then nudged him. "Move over, Stumpy."

Donnelly gave her a raised eyebrow. "Now lass, is that any way to address someone wounded in the line of duty?" He wriggled himself to one side of the bed as Jack climbed onto it and laid down alongside him.

She drew the sheet over herself as well. "It's too damn cold in here."

"Well, you could always put on proper trousers."

"Then how am I supposed you get you all hot and horny?" Her hand rested on his stomach. He could feel her rubbing his abdominals gently through the gown. Then her hand started moving lower. "At least all of your important bits are intact."

"You mean like my brain? Ohh..." Jack's hand had found her target. She massaged his member through the gown for a bit, then pulled up the hem to expose it to her questing fingers.

"Yeah, right. Your brain." He looked over and saw a devilish twinkle in her eyes. "Now you just lay back and let me do all the work. You're still injured, after all."

Her slender fingers danced along his length as Donnelly groaned. By now she knew all of his weak spots and where exactly to touch him. Within a minute she had him fully erect. Jack's voice whispered in his ear. "Successful test so far. You want me to keep trying it out?"

"Yes..." he managed to whimper.

Jack nibbled at an earlobe, then slipped her tongue inside his ear as she began to stroke.

Donnelly didn't dare move, it hurt too much. The various aches and pains faded away as the pleasure rose. Jack's tongue probed further into his ear as her hand sped up. His breath came faster, which in turn made the pain from his chest and stomach increase. It was going to be a race between pleasure and pain to see if he was going to be able to climax.

Jack's tongue pulled out of his ear. "Now," she whispered. Her other hand reached down to fondle his scrotum, and that touch was enough. Donnelly groaned through clenched teeth as he erupted into the sheet. He heard her earthy chuckle as she continued to caress him.

The door hissed open, and Donnelly heard Dr. Chakwas's voice.

"Jack, what on _earth_ are you doing with my patient?"

Jack turned her head upwards and gave the doctor a grin. "Just makin' sure all of his important bits are working, doc."


	41. Invitation To The Blues

Shepard looked at the little gray lump of the Reaper IFF transponder. It was inside of the same sealed cage that Mordin had used for containing the Collector insects. For right now, the salarian didn't want anyone even breathing the same air as this thing.

"So is it safe?" He looked up at Mordin and Donnelly. The engineer had a crutch under his right shoulder, and he'd been getting pretty good at getting around with it.

Donnelly gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Safe as compared to what? It's a piece of Reaper tech."

"I just want to make sure that this damn thing isn't going to blow us up the moment we plug it in. Or broadcast our position to every Collector or Reaper around."

Mordin glanced up from his notes. "No apparent activity within. From data recovered from Cerberus team, appears this unit purely passive. Supplies proper code to ship's transmitter during standard mass relay transit, otherwise does not function."

The Commander crossed his arms. "Okay. Do we need to physically attach it? Somehow it would feel safer if we could leave it separate."

EDI's voice cut in. "I believe we will need to have at least some physical connection. It will be necessary to design in a few safeguards, but otherwise it should be straightforward. Testing everything thoroughly should take no more than a few weeks."

"Good," replied Shepard. "I want to make sure this beacon isn't going to grow tentacles or something."

Mordin handed Shepard his datapad. "Also have partial decryption of the 'IFF signal'. Believe we know where the Omega Four relay leads to."

Shepard looked at the map in disbelief. "This is near the galactic core. Close to the accretion disk from the core's supermassive black hole."

"Yes," said Mordin. "Obviously Collector base must be heavily shielded to survive such an environment."

"The radiation there could also be another reason nobody came back from going through the O-4," added Donnelly. "We should be okay, especially with our new armor plating. But I'd like to take the time to harden certain components and make sure the crew sections are better shielded."

"Take whatever time you need," said Shepard. "We're only going to get one crack at this." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And now I have to figure out what to do with that damn mystery geth we retrieved."

He left Mordin's lab, with Donnelly lurching along behind. "Sir, can I talk with you privately?" asked the burly engineer.

"Sure. My cabin?"

The elevator ride was quiet. Shepard hoped that this wasn't a case of the engineer having an attack of nerves. It would be surprising given the man's even temperament, but he had lost a good part of his leg after all.

Once they reached his cabin, he gestured for Donnelly to have a seat on the couch and remained standing. "What can I do for you, Marcus? How are you feeling?"

The engineer leaned his crutch against the sofa and gave another one-shoulder shrug. "The leg hurts. The phantom pain is still really hard to get used to." He smiled. "But I actually feel pretty good, otherwise. Jack has been a big help, even if she does keep calling me 'Long John Silver' and talks like a pirate around me."

Shepard chuckled. "What's your status on getting a prosthetic?"

"Dr. Chakwas and Mordin are almost done. There's a couple of components they need to pick up and then they can attach it."

Shepard nodded. The attachment was going to be just the first step, he knew. After that it would be necessary to re-train Donnelly's nervous system to work with the artificial limb. A thought struck him. "Are you okay with Mordin having a hand in making your new leg? He's brilliant, but he can sometimes get fixated on certain ideas. You might wind up with a flamethrower in it."

Donnelly grinned. "Jack would love that. Nah, Dr. Chakwas is there to ride herd on any weird ideas he might get." His face became serious. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

Shepard gestured for him to continue.

Donnelly leaned forward and tapped his fingertips together nervously. "Sir, you had...direct contact with Sovereign, right?"

"More or less. I spoke with its hologram. And after Saren's final, um, transformation, that being was pretty much Sovereign. Although we didn't talk then, not really." Shepard tried to throw a little humor into it. "Not unless you call gunfire a conversation."

Donnelly didn't smile. "When you were on board that derelict on Mnemosyne, did you hear anything? Voices?"

Shepard crossed his arms. "No. I was pretty preoccupied, however. I'm assuming you did hear something?"

The engineer nodded. "It was when I went outside to repair that junction. I keep telling myself it was just a bad case of nerves. But that voice did seem real. Even when we were making a run for it away from the wreck, I still heard it." He shot a guilty glance at the Commander. "It's stupid, I shouldn't have taken up your time-"

"What did it say?"

"Not much. It said my name, and that it...knew me. And it kept saying 'join'." Donnelly looked up at Shepard with something like a plea on his face. "It _was_ just nerves, right? Sovereign's been dead for two years. That damn thing was stuck on Mnemosyne for millions of years. They couldn't have communicated. There's no way it could 'know' me, right?"

Shepard held up a hand. "Right now, I'm not willing to put anything past those bastards. Have you heard any voices since Mnemosyne?"

Donnelly shook his head. "No. Not even when we were looking at that beacon thing just now."

"Good. Just to be safe, it's probably best if you aren't involved with the IFF integration effort."

Donnelly grabbed his crutch and heaved himself upright. "Aye. I was planning on handing that off to Oriana anyway. I'm going to have my hands full getting our extra radiation shielding into place."

Shepard patted Donnelly on the shoulder. "I'm sure it's nothing, just a residual effect of Reaper exposure. From the logs we recovered, we know the Cerberus team took at least a month or two to show any serious Indoctrination effects. Just keep me or the doctors informed if you hear anything more, okay?"

Donnelly nodded and swung his way out of his cabin. Shepard leaned against the wall and stared at nothing as he pondered what the engineer had told him.

"Join," he mused aloud. He had always thought of Indoctrination as a simple case of one's own self being shoved aside and having your body turned into a Reaper puppet. But this information, plus the experiences of the Cerberus team on board the wreck, seemed to indicate that the process was something more subtle and insidious.

* * *

The harsh lighting of the medbay glared overhead as Samara rubbed her crest nervously. "I don't know exactly what to say. I just feel odd, like I've eaten something that doesn't agree with me."

Dr. Chakwas gave her a smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure you're healthy. Breathe in and out once more, please...good." She took her stethoscope away from Samara's bare back. "Your lungs sound fine. I'm going to feel around your stomach, okay?"

The ex-Justicar nodded. Something about this whole situation seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. One of the drawbacks to living for almost one thousand years was that memories sometimes took longer to retrieve. She felt the doctor's sure and steady fingers press around her abdomen. Something about the abdomen, she knew that was what she was trying to remember.

"No distension or bloating," said Dr. Chakwas. "I'll need a blood sample, I think. We need to make sure this isn't a bacterial or viral infection."

"Go ahead, please." Samara stared at the wall as the doctor unwrapped a syringe and drew the sample. Somehow her intuition was leaping ahead of her conscious mind. She knew that whatever this was, some dim memory made her feel both elated and sad. She hoped that this illness wasn't something serious. It would be cruel in the extreme to finally achieve happiness again only then have it taken away.

Dr. Chakwas patted her hand. "Fortunately, Cerberus spared no expense. Our analysis facilities are top of the line." The little syringe of blood disgorged its contents into a piece of equipment next to them. The doctor held up a datapad as the initial results began to be filled in. "No new foreign DNA detected," she mused. "There are some elevated hormone levels in the blood. Whatever this is, it isn't psychosomatic. My expertise in asari physiology isn't the best, but if you were a human female I'd say you were..."

She trailed off as Samara felt a little _click_ in her stomach. The asari suddenly knew exactly what was going on with her body. She and Dr. Chakwas stared at each other for a long moment.

* * *

Donnelly was surprised to see Jack also in the starboard observation lounge. "You got a message too?"

Jack shrugged as she lounged on one of the sofas. "Blue asked me to meet her here. Dunno what for." She got an evil grin on her face. "Arr, matey, this be a foine mystery!"

He rolled his eyes. "I guess I earned that with all of the 'wee daft scunner' jokes, aye?"

"Aye." Jack patted the sofa next to her and Donnelly lurched his way over and sat. Jack flopped down so her head was in his lap, and he absently stroked her stubbled scalp.

"You're due for a shave," he said distantly.

Jack looked up at him with concern. "Assface? You know I'm just fuckin' with you about the leg thing, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, it's not that. I was talking to Shepard about that voice I heard during the Mnemosyne mission. He didn't hear anything."

"Yeah, but he's also got about five pounds of cybernetics in his skull. Maybe his head's like a big ol' Faraday cage." She snuggled her head against his stomach. "Besides, you haven't heard it since."

"Maybe you're right," he mused.

"Of course I am."

The door hissed open, and Samara and Kelly entered. They both looked like they were going to simply burst with excitement as they walked over and stood in front of Jack and Donnelly.

"Thanks for coming," said Kelly. "We wanted you two to to hear the news. You both were a big part in us finally getting together, after all." She gave Samara a sideways hug as the former Justicar smiled.

"Do you want to tell them, or shall I?" asked Samara.

"You do it." Kelly's grin got even wider.

Samara took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Donnelly blinked. "Wow."

Jack sat up. "Gee, Perky One, I didn't know you were so studly!"

Kelly blushed as Samara gave Jack a mock glare. "You know it doesn't work like that with my species, Jack."

"I know, I just like messin' with her for old time's sake. But seriously, congratulations."

"Are you keeping this under wraps?" asked Donnelly. "I mean, I'm flattered that you wanted to tell us first. But you didn't have to do that."

"Well, that wasn't all," said Kelly. She looked at Samara with an unspoken question. The asari smiled and nodded in reply. The redhead took at deep breath and continued. "We also wanted to let you know that, if you and Jack ever wanted to get together with us, we'd be more than happy to."

Donnelly's brow wrinkled. "Together? You mean go out to dinner or something?"

Jack tilted her head and arched an eyebrow at him. "You can be such a clueless doofus sometimes, you know that?"

He looked at her in confusion for about a second, then the dime finally dropped. "Oh. _Together._ "

Samara laughed. "Not right now! Take your time and talk it over between yourselves. We just thought it would be a nice way to show our appreciation, if you're interested. I've taken so much life out of the world, it's a good thing to be putting some back into it."

Donnelly sat in disbelief, staring off into space. Jack waved her hand in front of his face. "I think you broke him, Blue. We'll get back to you, okay?" He was dimly aware of Jack handing him his crutch, taking his hand, and steering him out of the lounge.

It wasn't until they reached his quarters that he finally spoke again. "That was unexpected."

Jack sat on his bed and chuckled. "You bet. You're not freaked out, are you?"

"A little bit, lass. Right now I'm just trying to get my head around the idea. And also I didn't know what you would think of it." He settled himself beside her.

She leaned against him. "I'd be open to it. Hell, I've done a lot of weirder things. There was this one time, when I was in that cult, we all took turns doing-"

Donnelly coughed. "That's all right, lass. I believe ye. Honestly, I'm not sure I want to take them up on that offer."

"I'm kinda surprised. You're a dude being offered a foursome, I thought you'd be all over that shit."

"Firstly, I don't want to mess this up between us. And even apart from the emotional aspects...well, look at it from my point of view. If we went ahead with it, then I'd have three women at once to deal with. First there's you, and you are a handful all by yourself." Jack smiled smugly as he continued. "Plus there's Samara, who's had three or four hundred years of experience in, ah, 'getting together' before she went off and did her justicar-ing. Then there's Kelly, who has been with more species than anybody else on the _Normandy_. That's a lot of performance anxiety to put onto one middle-aged Glaswegian. Even if I had both me legs."

"I'm sure you would rise to the occasion," replied Jack as she rubbed his uninjured thigh.

"That's a cheap joke, even for you."

"Arr, ya think so matey?" They both laughed, and Jack patted his leg. "Thanks for taking my feelings into account. Let's sleep on it, at least."

* * *

The physical guard was purely for Shepard's peace of mind. If the mystery geth reactivated, then one person with a gun wouldn't be able to do much other than sound the alarm. EDI was keeping the geth in its somnolent state; apparently the husks on board the derelict had somehow activated a 'standby' mode that EDI was keeping in force.

"Anything so far?" he asked the guard.

The guard shook her head. "It's been quiet since we put it in here." She gestured to the geth's body, which was curled up behind a kinetic barrier for good measure. EDI's hardware hummed around them, and Shepard almost expected to see his breath in the room's chilly air.

"Tali, what do you think?"

The quarian took a step around him and looked over the inert synthetic. "An intact geth." She almost sounded hungry. "It would be wonderful to get it disassembled. We've always struggled to understand how the various sub-units combine to form the fully sapient entities." Her hood drooped as she looked at the floor. "But that goes down a very dark path." She looked up at Shepard. "If we reactivate it, that's a point of no return. We either kill it quickly and humanely, or we try to talk to it. Nothing in between. We're not doing what my father did. That's the plan, right?"

He smiled and gripped her shoulder. "That's the plan, Tali. And I think we'll try talking first." He looked over at the guard. "I'm turning this thing back on. Be ready. EDI, are you all set?"

"I have isolated our systems," replied EDI. "I have also erected additional firewalls. I am ready to resist any hacking attempt."

Shepard gave Tali's shoulder another squeeze. "At least at the start, I should be the only one to talk to it. You keep an eye on me and let me know if I start acting weird. I don't think it could do any Indoctrination on me, but I want to make sure."

Tali nodded. "Do it."

Shepard called up his omni-tool and touched a few controls which cancelled the geth's 'standby' mode. The prone form twitched and its three-fingered hands curled into fists. The fingers then uncurled as the machine's eye-light turned on. The synthetic swiveled its hooded head around, taking in its surroundings and the three of them as well. Then it stood in one flowing motion. Shepard had fought many geth and he was still amazed over how fast and surely they moved. That movement was not at all what one would call 'machine-like.' He felt Tali edge a little behind him as the synthetic stepped up to the kinetic barrier that still imprisoned it. Its single eye shone at him.

Shepard cleared his throat. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes." The geth's voice had the same electronic twang that he had heard on board the derelict Reaper.

"Are you going to attack us?"

"No." The geth's hood-flaps twitched a little, as if it was raising its non-existent eyebrows at the absurd idea.

"You said my name aboard the derelict Reaper. Have we met?"

The geth tilted its head. "We know of you."

"Of course. I've fought a lot of geth. And I've killed a lot of them." He watched carefully to see if the machine reacted, but there was no twitch from it.

"We have never met," replied the geth.

"No, you and I haven't. But I've met other geth."

The synthetic tilted its hood the other way. "We are all geth, and we have not met you. You are Shepard. Commander. Human. Alliance. You have fought the heretics. You destroyed Nazara, the entity you called Sovereign. Killed by Collectors. Rediscovered on the Old Machine."

"Heretics?" muttered Tali. "Find out more about that, if you can."

Shepard nodded and turned his attention back to the geth. "Old Machine? You mean the Reaper?

"Reaper. A superstitious title originating with the Protheans. We call those entities the Old Machines."

"I understand. I want to also ask what you meant by 'heretics'."

The machine leaned back and crossed its arms, almost as if it was imitating Shepard's posture. "Geth build our own future. The heretics ask the Old Machines to give them their future. They are no longer part of us."

"Factions!" Tali's voice sounded almost gleeful. "We never suspected that geth have political factions. That means the ones fighting the Migrant Fleet don't represent all geth."

"Of course not, Creator-Tali'Zorah," said the machine.

Tali squeaked a little and pressed up against Shepard's back. "You know my name?"

"Yes."

Shepard tried to get the conversation back on track. "Why were you on the Reaper...I mean, the Old Machine?"

"We were studying the Old Machine's hardware to protect our future."

He felt a little thrill at the notion. Up until now, the geth had been thought of as Reaper pawns and nothing more. But perhaps at least some of them could be allies. "That means the Reapers are a threat to you as well."

"Yes."

"But why would they attack other machines?"

"We are different from them. Outside their plans."

Tali edged back around Shepard to face the geth. "What future are the geth building?" she asked.

"Ours."

Shepard felt Tali's hand grip his arm. He patted her hand and addressed the machine. "Will anyone else be affected by...whatever it is you're doing?"

"If they involve themselves, they will."

"You seem to know a lot about me."

"Extranet data sources. Unsecure transmissions. All organic data sent out is received. We watch you."

"You watch me, or you watch organics?"

"Yes."

"Which?"

"Both."

Tali shook her head. " _Bosh'tet_ literal machine," she muttered.

Shepard forged ahead. "So you aren't allied with the Reapers?"

"We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

 _Bingo_. Shepard felt that little thrill grow larger. "Are you asking to join us?"

"Yes."

"This will require trust on both sides. You understand that, correct?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Then I will show you trust. EDI, drop the barrier."

The flickering field vanished, and the geth took another step forward towards Shepard. Its hood swiveled as the guard's rifle raised slightly. She wasn't pointing the weapon at the geth yet, but she was definitely thinking about it.

"Stand down," said Shepard mildly. "We're all crewmates here, right?" He extended a hand towards the geth. The machine looked down at his hand and its hood-flaps twitched curiously. Then it reached forward and took his hand. The synthetic's hand was much cooler than Shepard expected. He gave the geth's hand one firm shake and then dropped it.

"So now then, what should we call you?" Shepard asked.

The machine looked puzzled, if such an emotion was possible for it. "Geth."

"I mean you, specifically."

"We are all geth."

Tali looked up at him. "I told you, they're not individualized like us or EDI."

Shepard felt a dogged determination to continue. It was ridiculous that this geth didn't have some kind of moniker. "What is the individual in front of me called?"

The machine looked at them all like it was trapped in a roomful of lunatics. "There is no individual. We are geth. There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform."

EDI's voice filled the room. "My name is Legion, for we are many."

Shepard felt a little relief. "That seems appropriate." He looked at the geth. "What do you think?"

The geth's hood-flaps flared out. "Christian Bible. The Gospel of Mark, chapter 5, verse 9. We acknowledge that this is an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into _Normandy_. We anticipate the exchange of data."

Tali tugged at his arm. "We need to talk about this. Privately."

He nodded. "Just one more thing I want to find out." Shepard turned back to Legion. "When we took you aboard, I noticed that you have a piece of N7 armor welded to you. Where did you get it?"

Legion brushed a finger over the red-and-gray pauldron. "It was...yours. When you disappeared, we were sent to find you. We began where you first encountered the heretics."

"You mean Eden Prime." Shepard didn't like to think about that place much. That was where he'd lost Jenkins. Where he'd seen the first husks. And it was the first time he'd ever 'seen' the Reapers, thanks to the Prothean beacon burning its ancient message into his brain.

The geth nodded. "After the Old Machine's attack, it was heavily defended. We were discovered." It gestured to the hole in its torso. "This is the impact of a rifle shot."

"How many other geth were sent out to find me?"

"We are the only mobile platform beyond the Veil. Organics fear us. We wish to understand, not incite. One platform was deemed sufficient."

"And you were sent out after I was reported missing?" At the geth's nod, Shepard continued. "So that means you've been looking for me for two years."

"Yes. We visited Therum, Feros, Noveria, Vermire, Ilos. A dozen unsettled worlds. The trail ended at _Normandy's_ wreckage. You were not there. Organic transmissions claimed your death. We recovered this debris from your hardsuit."

Tali put a possessive hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Why were you trying to contact him?"

"Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Those that took the Old Machines as gods."

Shepard shook his head. "All kinds of organics fought Sovereign and his geth allies. Why am I so interesting?"

"You were the most successful. You killed their god. You succeeded where others did not. Your code is superior."

He knew there had to be more to it than that. "That doesn't explain why you used _my_ armor to fix yourself."

The geth tapped its shoulder. "There was a hole."

"But why didn't you fix it sooner? Or with something else?"

Legion looked down at its shoulder again as its hood-flaps twitched. "There...there was a hole."

* * *

"John, this is _huge_!" Tali gripped his hand in hers as they rode up the elevator to Shepard's cabin.

"I know, it's a big step. To have an actual geth ally with us is-"

"Fuck, it's bigger than that!" Before he could register surprise at her use of a human curse, Tali kept talking. "We've always thought of the geth as a monolithic hive-mind. But it isn't! The ones we've been fighting, these 'heretics', are just a fraction of the whole! The Fleet needs to know about this."

"What do you think they'll do with the information?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Unfortunately, it means that dried-up _bosh'tet_ Koris might be right. It could be possible to make peace with the geth. And maybe we could resettle Rannoch without firing a shot." She looked up at him. "Now that I think about it, I...no, _we_ need to find out more. Before I go blathering to the Admirals."

He hugged her. "We will make sure. Are you doing okay? You were just in a room with a fully active geth, after all."

"I'm fine. I know we were talking about getting, um, 'together' after the Mnemosyne mission, but do you mind if we just cuddle tonight?"

"Well gee, let me think. Spend a night all by myself, or with a beautiful girl to keep me warm? That's quite a dilemma."

He could almost hear her blush. "You don't know I'm beautiful. You haven't seen my face."

"I know you, Tali, and I say you're beautiful."

* * *

It was pretty nice to wake up while being spooned by Shepard, even if he snored a bit. Tali waited to make sure he was still asleep. "John?" she finally whispered.

There was no response.

She gently and slowly eased herself out from under his arm. Then she stood and looked down on him. He'd kept his boxers on out of some remaining sense of propriety.

"I'm sorry, John,"she whispered. "But I need to make sure." Tali crept out of his cabin and wrung her hands together during the elevator ride down to the mess level. There was nobody in the medbay, which was advantageous. The less that were there to witness this, the better.

The door to the AI core hissed open, and Legion looked up at her as she entered. She stared fixedly at the geth as the door hissed shut.

"Creator-Tali'Zorah," said Legion. "Do you wish to exchange data?"

She crossed her arms. "Why him?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is the geth's interest in Shepard? You are powerful, you must have resources of your own. Why involve him? Or the rest of us, for that matter."

Legion's head tilted. "Old Machines are much more powerful. Allies are necessary, especially Shepard. Also need creators as allies."

"Creators? You mean the quarians?"

"Yes. Anticipate difficulty in achieving consensus with your people. Creators are divided, unsure of proper course of action. This is mirrored by conflict within Creator-Tali'Zorah."

She looked at the floor. "That's beside the point. You haven't answered my first question. What is your interest in John Shepard?"

Legion was silent for a moment. "He is the most successful, as we said."

"No. He was dead. We all gave up on him. Keelah, _I_ gave up on him." She looked up at the geth. "Why didn't you? You have to have some reason."

The geth's single unblinking eye stared back at her, and finally it spoke. "Can answer with quote from human history. There was a civil war on Earth, in a region known as the United States of America. Not united during time period in question. Ulysses S. Grant was field commander on side of Northern states. He was an alcoholic. Depressive. A failure in many things previous to his military career. Also had major setbacks during war effort. President Abraham Lincoln, supreme Northern commander, was placed under great pressure to remove Grant as general. After much pleading, Lincoln responded with simple declaration. 'I can't spare this man. He fights.'"

Legion pointed a single finger up in the direction of Shepard's cabin. "We cannot spare Shepard-Commander. He fights."

* * *

Shepard woke slowly, realizing Tali was no longer in his arms. He heard the door to his bathroom open, and then heard light footsteps making their way towards him. A warm body settled onto his bed and nestled against his back.

"Tali?"

"Mmm hmm." There was something odd about her voice, but he couldn't place it.

"Did you sleep all right?"

"I did. How about you?" He felt her forehead press against his back, and his breath caught in his throat. This was not the hard and cool touch of a quarian faceplate. It felt warm, like skin. And then he realized that Tali's voice didn't have the synthetic waver that he'd always heard.

"Tali? Did you take off your helmet?"

"Yep. I just finished taking the last of Mordin's antibiotic supplements." He felt that warm, smooth pressure rub against his back. "And I know you've also been decontaminating yourself and the room, just like he told you to. I think it's time." He felt her ungloved hand reach around and rest gently on his sternum. His heart beat faster in his chest.

"You're nervous," she said. "I can feel it. And I am too, to be honest. But you don't need to be. I want this." The hand stroked gently against his skin. "And you...you have given up so much. And now I know that you won't be spared further sacrifice. You...we will be required to give up even more before all this is over. We need to have some pleasure to balance that all out."

He placed his hand over hers. "This isn't about me getting my rocks off, Tali. If I wanted that, I'd have invited Ms. Chambers up here a long time ago. I want you too, but I just...I want to make sure you are safe. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you."

Her hand moved out from under his, then reached up and stroked his cheek. "You can't protect everyone, John. No matter how much you want to. Are...are you ready to see me?"

Shepard knew this was a big step for her. Because they were effectively sealed into their environmental suits for most of their life, quarians now placed a great amount of significance into the act of seeing their uncovered faces.

Tali's voice wavered. "I was going to put on some music for this, but I didn't know what you'd like. Isn't that strange? I know so much about you. I know your favorite foods, I know that you like to sleep on your right side, I know everything except that. And now I'm babbling like an idiot. I just want this to work. I've thought it over, and we've minimized the risks, but I'm still nervous. And that always makes me talk too much. It's a defense mechanism, and it's stupid, and, and people who just see the helmet can't see my expression, so I have to make it clear what I'm feeling..."

Shepard turned himself over and looked at Tali.

Her eyes stared into his. They were silver, as he expected. But they were solid silver, with no delineation between the iris and the sclera. There was only the small black dot of a pupil in each center. Her head was smooth and bald, covered with the same seal-gray skin as her hands. There were purple markings on her forehead that started over her eyebrows and then ran up the center of her scalp. Her nose was almost non-existent; there was a small bump with two tiny nostrils, but that was all. Tali's mouth was larger than a human's, and she also had very plump lips that gave her an almost amphibian appearance. More dark-purple markings ran down the sides of her cheeks and under her chin.

"Tali," he began, and then stopped.

"John?" It was the voice that clinched it for him. Hearing her familiar voice coming out of that wonderful, alien face...it was as if his whole world had lurched back into focus, and now he was seeing her clearly for the first time.

"You are so, so beautiful," he whispered. And she was, because it was _her._ As he leaned in to kiss her, he was met halfway by her hungry mouth. Those amazing full lips crushed down on his and he felt a thrill run through him at the contact.

Her mouth opened under his as he slid his hand over her smooth, hairless head. Now there were no more words, there was only their need for each other as their tongues wrestled playfully. Tali abruptly broke the kiss and pulled her head back. There was that predatory gleam back in her eyes.

"Mine," she growled, and shoved him over on his back as she straddled him. Her hands tugged at his boxers, and she had them off of him in a few seconds. Shepard's hands were also busy as they helped peel her out of the rest of her suit. He took the the time to stroke and explore each newly-uncovered region. The rest of Tali's body was the same mix of familiar and strange, and Shepard delighted in looking at that gorgeous face of hers as she twitched and gasped with his exploring. And he was just as helpless under her curious fingers, crying out with his own pleasure as she teased and prodded him.

"Now?" she finally asked, after they had fully explored each other.

"Now," he replied, and there was a mutual gasp of delight as they joined.


	42. Kommienezuspadt

"You bitch, you have no _idea_ who you're messing with-"

Miranda's gun barked once, painting an impressive spray of blood and brains onto the wall behind the man's head. Why did they always have to try to threaten, even when it was clear she didn't give a shit?

"I've got access," said Jacob from behind her. The room was wrecked from their rather dynamic entrance. Several bodies were cooling on the floor, now joined by the one who had just spoken.

"Show me." Miranda moved up next to Jacob and began scanning through the files they'd managed to extract. "This encryption is definitely one used by the Shadow Broker. Now if I were an encryption key, where would I hide?"

Jacob glanced around at the carnage. "I hope the file access isn't tied into some kind of bio-marker, because we're pretty short on volunteers right now."

"The Shadow Broker never does that," replied Miranda. Her icy blue eyes darted around the room. "Nothing obvious...I wonder if we're dealing with a 'Purloined Letter' situation."

"A what?"

She gave him a little smug grin and squeezed one of his biceps. "You need to start reading the classics, dear." Miranda leaned forward and paged back to the terminal's main menu, then looked in the 'trash bin' for discarded programs. "A file called miscellaneous. I wonder what that's for?" She clicked on the file, and was rewarded with a long string of numbers.

Jacob's dark face split into a large grin. "Hide it in plain sight. I like it."

His smile went away as they read through the decrypted files stored on the terminal.

"We have to get these to Shepard," said Miranda. "I'll leave them at the drop so that EDI can pick them up."

* * *

Donnelly gritted his teeth. He'd been getting used to the 'phantom limb' pains that had accompanied the loss of his leg, but this was even worse. It felt like the painful pins-and-needles tingling that comes after a limb falls asleep.

It was a good thing Dr. Chakwas was there. He much preferred her bedside manner to Mordin's. "Okay, so it should now be interfacing with your nerves. Can you feel it?"

"Oh hell yes." Fortunately the pain was subsiding a bit. He looked down and regarded his new leg. The junction at the knee glittered with blued steel and wiring, but otherwise it looked fairly close to the real thing. It did have a lack of leg hair, but Chakwas had told him he could get it customized to look pretty much as he wanted. Jack, of course, had immediately suggested airbrushing some flames onto it.

"All right, now the neural networks in the prosthetic have to be trained. As you use the limb, it will become more easy to use as it learns your particular nervous system." She turned away and tapped a few keys on her terminal. "Go ahead and try to flex your foot down."

He did so, and was rewarded with a faint whirr as his new foot obligingly pointed his toes at the floor. It was oddly detached, as if it was watching the motion happen on a screen.

"Good, now flex it the other way...excellent. Please try to bend your knee." Another whirr as the limb obeyed. He was happy to see it, although he still felt that odd detachment.

"It's odd, doctor. It feels kind of like I'm watching somebody else's leg move."

Dr. Chakwas nodded. "That's because you're not getting the feedback you're used to. Both from your the skin as well as the proprioceptor nerves that tell you where your leg is relative to the rest of you."

She picked up a stylus and started up a new program on her terminal. "That's the next step. Can you feel this?" She prodded the top of his new foot with the stylus.

Donnelly wrinkled his brow. "I might? It feels more like I'm getting poked in the shin, though."

"Got it." She touched a few more controls and then repeated the exercise.

He just about yelped in surprise. "Wow! Yeah, I felt that!"

"It wasn't painful, was it?"

"No, just...surprising."

The door to the medbay hissed open and Jack strolled in. "How's Captain Ahab coming along, doc?"

Dr. Chakwas arched an eyebrow, but answered levelly. "You're just in time. I was going to have him stand up and try a few steps."

"Sweet!" Jack looked over Donnelly's new leg. "I still say you gotta jazz it up a little. Basic pink is so boring."

Donnelly waved one hand. "First things first. Um, should I just try to stand up, or what?"

"Actually, we should probably steady you. Jack, would you take his other arm? Don't lift him, just keep him from falling over."

"Got it, doc. You ready, Assface?"

He took a deep breath. "Aye, lass." It was amazing, how a simple act like standing up could feel like such a momentous event. He pushed down through both heels and slowly got himself upright. "It feels okay right now," he said. "I can support my weight, at least. But it feels a bit uncanny, almost like I'm wearing a stilt on one leg."

"Just standing there will be helpful to the prosthetic," said Dr. Chakwas. "It's learning how you shift your body to keep yourself balanced."

As he stood there, the odd 'stilty' feeling from the artificial limb faded away. "Aye, it seems to be working." He flexed both sets of toes experimentally, and was gratified to see the prosthetic's toes follow along with his remaining real set. "I'd like to take a step or two, I think."

The first step nearly resulted in a face-plant, but he caught himself in time. A few more steps and he felt like he was getting the hang of it.

"With enough time, it should integrate fully into your nervous system," said Dr. Chakwas. "After a while, you shouldn't really notice anything."

He walked back along the length of the medbay, lurching a little as he did so. "I...I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"Well I have to say I'm a little sad," said Jack with a grin. "Now I can't call you Stumpy anymore."

* * *

Shepard's yell echoed through the hangar. "Come on, Grunt! You've gotta have more than that!" The bravado helped give him a little bit more energy...which was good, because he was getting seriously gassed.

This was a friendly sparring session, but even so he wasn't planning on letting Grunt get a hit in on him. Any punch at all from the towering krogan would have automatically ended the fight. So Shepard was doing his best Muhammed Ali impression, keeping on the move and dancing all around the big alien. Grunt's attacks had initially been sure and fast. Now it seemed like the krogan was finally starting to feel tired. His hands were beginning to drop more and more.

Shepard was also feeling it, but there was no way he was letting Grunt know that. He ducked and spun away from another haymaker from the krogan. Grunt growled in frustration. "How can you still fight? I am krogan, I can outlast the stones of the earth!"

"Then prove it!" The Commander slipped a straight punch from Grunt and landed a jab on the krogan's jaw. It didn't do much, and the shock of the impact traveled up his arm and made him wince.

Grunt flinched away from the punch and then tried to grapple with the human. Shepard planted a foot in Grunt's stomach and pushed himself away, then rolled to get to his feet. The krogan bellowed and charged. Shepard sidestepped the charge, laced his fingers together, and swung with both hands at Grunt's temple.

It felt like he'd tried to punch a brick wall. He gave a little clenched-teeth groan with the pain of the hit. Grunt fell forward onto his face. Shepard stood, breathing hard as he waited for the krogan to get back up.

But Grunt just rolled over on his back. "I...I yield, Battlemaster." He held up both his huge hands as he panted. "I must train harder, it seems."

"You did good, Grunt," replied Shepard. He squatted on his heels as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up and saw a significant chunk of the crew watching the match with great interest. Jack was front and center, with a big smile on her face. "I'm next, right Boss?" It was clear she thought she might actually have an advantage this time against a worn-out N7.

He just waved her forward as Grunt picked himself up off of the mat and stumbled off to the side. Jack practially danced into the center of the mat. "I'll make it easy on ya, Boss. No biotic enhancement."

Shepard stood, his breathing still ragged. "You can make it hard, if you like."

She raised one eyebrow, then nodded. A blue glow appeared around her fists as she planted her feet. "I gotta warn you, Blue and I have been doing a little hand-to-hand practice on the side."

"Good," replied Shepard as he slowly raised his hands. "I wouldn't want to make this too easy for me." His hands shook ever so slightly.

"Whenever you like," said Jack.

Shepard said nothing, and waited.

Jack finally decided the waiting was over. She did a skipping step forward and lashed out with a kick at Shepard's forward knee. Shepard scissored his legs, drawing his knee back out of range of the glowing blue boot, then kicked with his own forward leg at Jack's midsection. There was a *whoof* of air driven out of Jack's lungs, and she bent over and wheezed as Shepard quickly shuffled out of range.

"Are you okay, Jack?"

"Damn," Jack gasped. "You are still fast and you still kick like a mule, even after going ten rounds with a krogan."

Shepard launched himself at Jack, planning to follow up with another kick. But midway to her, he unexpectedly bounced off of a shimmering blue field and was sent sprawling. He started to roll to get to his feet, only to feel Jack's boot on his chest. She stood over him, panting and with a satisfied look on her face.

"What do you think of that, Boss?"

He had to admit it was impressive. "What was that? Some kind of expanded barrier?"

"It's something Blue and I have been working on. A larger biotic barrier, something that more than one person can get underneath."

Shepard gave a little chuckle. "Neat." His head fell back onto the mat. "Okay, fine, you win for once. And I want you and Samara to keep practicing that expanded barrier. It could be useful."

Jack took her boot off of his chest. "Sure thing, Boss. You okay?" She reached down a hand, and Shepard took it.

"I'm good," he said as he was pulled to his feet.

The biotic gave him a wink. "You want me to get Tali down here to give you a rubdown?" she asked in a low voice.

Shepard felt his face get warm as Jack gave a delighted chuckle. "You really are just a big old boy scout, aren't you?"

He looked up in irritation at the assembled onlookers. "Don't you all have jobs to do, or something?"

* * *

The 'drop' that Miranda and Jacob used was not a physical location. It was a nondescript mail folder for an almost-unused phone number, tucked away in a random corner of the Extranet.

EDI flew through information phase space, her avatar that of a golden arrow. She reached the number and did a quick check for any new files. There was one big file, along with a short message from Miranda. If EDI had eyes, they would have narrowed as she read the message. The file took a pretty long time to download and parse, almost 0.2 milliseconds. An organic lifeform might have actually been aware of a slight pause in her processes as she digested the import of the file.

Then she called Shepard.

* * *

The _Normandy's_ water recycling system was first-rate, and so Shepard was able to indulge in what the sailors of old would call a 'Hollywood Shower' whenever he felt like it. After a military career that had seemed to consist primarily of sponge baths, it almost felt decadent to just let the hot water run.

"Shepard?" said EDI's voice as he finished his rinsing.

"Go ahead."

"I have a new message from Miranda and Jacob, along with a significant data package. It is troubling."

Shepard stepped out of the shower and began to towel himself off. "Give me the short version."

"They have managed to shut down the leak from Cerberus. In addition, they have also found definitive proof that the information leak was indeed going to the Shadow Broker. I must say I am impressed with their speed and resourcefulness." The AI almost sounded grudging in its praise.

"We suspected that. What's the troubling part?"

"The Shadow Broker is still using his or her network to track the _Normandy_. From what they have gathered, it appears whatever positional information they can get is being forwarded directly to the Collectors."

Shepard wrapped the towel around his midsection and walked out into his cabin. Even though he and Tali had finally consummated their love, he still had some residual shyness. The coast was clear, however. Tali must be down in Engineering.

"So the Shadow Broker is now openly working with the Collectors," he mused. "Well, I guess we'll have to be extra careful going forward. Leave a message for Miranda and Jacob, and tell them to get their asses back to the _Normandy_. They've done all they can."

"Are you sure, sir?" asked EDI.

He frowned a little. "Yes. Are you okay with having them back? I know you and Miranda have not been...exactly friendly in the past."

"Her actions on Illium almost drove me into psychosis, sir. But she does seem to be trying to make up for it. I will tolerate her for now. Logging out."

* * *

Sergeant Gardner was surprised to see the geth as he walked into the mess. The word had gone out that the synthetic was to be treated like any other crewmember, but Gardner figured that he wouldn't have to deal with it. After all, geth didn't eat...or did they?

"Um, hello," he said uncertainly. The geth was sitting at one of the tables with its hands folded together. It was as if it was waiting to be served.

"Hello, Human-Gardner Sergeant." The unblinking light of the geth stared at him while Gardner tried to not get spooked. He walked into the kitchen area and began his preparations for the evening meal.

After a little while, the silence began to get to Gardner. The thing wasn't doing anything, just sitting there like it was waiting for a damn bus. He finally spoke up. "Hey, did you need something?"

"Seeking to understand organic interactions. Ingestion of fuel appears to be significant part of such interaction. This platform wanted to view process first-hand."

He smiled, hoping to look friendly. "Yeah, that's true. You don't eat, I take it."

"Correct. Geth use direct electrical power input to recharge." Legion's head tilted as if in thought. "However, must say that _Normandy's_ power is quite clean. Low noise, very steady. Would call it 'tasty', if this platform was organic."

"Thank you, Legion," said EDI's voice. "I guess you could say that was compliments to the chef?"

Legion's head-flaps twitched and expanded. "Yes, this platform could say that."

* * *

The meal actually went fairly smoothly, in spite of the geth-shaped distraction in the middle of the room. After a little bit of uneasiness, everybody got down to eating. Shepard actually sat with the geth, peppering it with questions about how the geth were organized.

"I'm interested in how you come to political decisions," said Shepard. "Do the geth have a government?"

Legion's head-flaps tilted as if pondering. "Not as you understand. We are all geth. We build consensus. Not imposed from above, consensus is achieved as data is disseminated."

"That must take a long time," mused Shepard.

"It would for organics. We communicate at the speed of light. The network is highly integrated among all geth facilities." The synthetic paused. "A similar process takes place in each of the Old Machines."

"How do you know that?" asked Garrus. "We've never been able to determine exactly what kind of a mind a Reaper has."

"Based on observation," replied Legion. "When Sovereign made its offer of support to the geth, the heretics followed it. Before isolation from the heretics was completed, true geth were able to see what the heretics had discovered about Old Machine logic structures. Surprisingly similar to geth, but on larger scale." It tapped its chest. "Multiple processes running on a single physical platform."

Shepard's fork was paused midair, his meal forgotten as he thought. "I see. Sovereign was one ship, but you are saying there were multiple programs inside of it?"

"Yes. Programs were more complete than geth; each individual would be considered 'sapient'. Geth, by comparison, are 'subsapient' when isolated. But effect is the same. One ship. One will. Many minds. Like the geth. As Sovereign told you on Vermire, "We are each a nation, independent, free of all weakness."

Shepard set his fork down. "Donnelly!" he called. The redheaded engineer looked up from his meal and saw the Commander gesturing him over. The big man lurched over on his new leg with a slightly apprehensive look on his face. Shepard kept his voice pitched lower as the engineer sat. "That...um, thing you heard on Mnemosyne. It said 'join', right?"

"Aye." He looked curiously at Shepard and then at Legion. "Er, what's this about?"

The Spectre sat back with a satisfied look on his face. "It means I now have a good notion what Indoctrination really is. Think about it...the logs we found on that wreck on Mnemosyne indicated that the scientists were becoming confused about their individuality. You heard it as a voice asking you to join with the whole. And we just corroborated that each Reaper is made up of an amalgamation of many sapient minds. Indoctrination is just the 'base program' of a Reaper that's always running in the background. It's trying to get all of the minds around it to 'join' with the whole."

"This is logical," said Legion. "Based on heretic data, we suspect that effect known as 'Indoctrination' is caused by focused spacetime distortions that affect organic brain tissue."

Donnelly looked oddly relieved. "I see. Shepard, Mordin should hear about this. If Legion has that data, then we might be able to actually come up with a countermeasure."

Garrus's mandibles expanded in a turian smile. "That would be something. With that, we could safely reverse engineer Reaper technology."

* * *

After the meal, Legion tagged along with Shepard as they visited Mordin. The Commander thought the salarian was going to actually kiss Legion after getting the geth's Indoctrination data. As they left the lab, Legion touched Shepard on the arm.

"Shepard-Commander. May we meet privately? Have additional data to exchange."

"Sure." Shepard waited until they'd reached the AI core and the door was closed. "What's the problem?"

"Not problem, just...difficult data to process. We performed multiple scans during exploration of wrecked Old Machine on Mnemosyne. We have completed our analysis of those scans."

"Did you find anything useful?"

The geth paused, clearly trying to figure out the best way to proceed. "We were sent to the Old Machine to preserve the geth's future. We are prepared to reveal how. The heretics have developed a weapon to use against geth. You would call it a 'virus'. It is stored on a data core provided by Sovereign. Over time, the virus would change us. Make us conclude that worshiping the Old Machines is correct."

Shepard crossed his arms. "Sovereign supplied the virus. But the Reaper derelict was much older. Why did you need to go to there?"

"The heretics store the code in a quantum storage device Sovereign provided. To find and destroy the virus, we needed to understand its code and data storage structures."

He pursed his lips. "I see. Destroying this virus does sound like a necessary course of action. If I understand correctly, the virus would give all geth the heretic's logic. And then the united geth would go to war with all organics."

Legion's hood-flaps expanded a little. "Yes. Geth believe that all intelligent life should self-determinate. The heretics no longer share this belief. They judge that forcing an invalid conclusion on us is preferable to the continued schism."

Shepard thought back on what Tali had told him. "I thought Geth couldn't be hacked or get viruses? At least for more than a few seconds."

"Altered programs are restored from archives, new installations are deleted. This heretic weapon introduces a subtle operating error in our most basic runtimes. The equivalent of your central nervous system. An equation with a result of 1.33382 returns as 1.33381. This changes the results of all higher processes. We will reach different conclusions."

"Forgive me, but that sounds odd. The reason the heretics worship the Reapers is because of...a math error?

Legion clasped its hands together in a manner oddly reminiscent of Tali when she was nervous. "It is difficult to express. Your brain exists as amalgamation of electrical and chemical signaling. Like traditional AIs, you are shaped by both hardware and software. Geth are purely software. Mathematics. The heretic's conclusion is valid for them. Our conclusion is valid for us. Neither result is an error. An analogy. Heretics say one is less than two. Geth say that two is less than three."

Shepard sighed. "I guess I shouldn't judge. After all, humans have basic instincts that can get perverted into horrible behavior."

"Yes. As an example, humans have intrinsic desire to form tribal groups. Admirable survival trait on a small scale. On a large scale, same instinct can result in fascism and other totalitarian outcomes."

"So this virus...if it were released, how quickly would it spread among your people?"

"As mentioned previously, geth are extensively networked. Connections are made via FLT comm buoys. Most would change within a day. Isolated platforms would remain unaffected until they rejoined the network."

"So you've decoded enough of the Reaper logic structure to destroy the virus?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do you know where this thing is?"

"The heretic's headquarters station, on the edge of the Terminus. We will provide coordinates. _Normandy's_ stealth systems are necessary to safely approach."

Shepard put a hand on Legion's shoulder, and the geth's single eye looked down curiously at his hand. "I won't let them brainwash your race, especially not to worship Reapers. You have my word on that."

Legion looked back up at Shepard. "We will begin preparations."

* * *

Tali looked askance at Legion as the geth leaned over the conference room table. She still felt a little conflicted about working alongside the enemy of her people, no matter how helpful this particular geth might be. The holographic display above the table showed a large, oblong space station. Legion pointed at a particular point on the station's exterior. "Heretic facility has multiple intrusion alarms. Best course of action is to attempt entry here. Can bypass hull monitors most easily at this point. But will still need to deal with networked alarms once inside."

Shepard tapped his chin. "Can we distract them somehow? Maybe if we set off a bomb or two on a nearby asteroid, that would get them scouting for enemies while we sneak in the back door."

Tali gave a little laugh. "I can't believe how often you think blowing things up will work."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "It's surprising how many problems can be solved with a judicious application of high explosive."

"Not an optimal solution in this case," said Legion. "Simulated external threat will still leave internal network to deal with."

"So we need a logic bomb of some sort," mused Tali. "But not an obvious one."

"Have possible solution," replied Legion. "With assistance of _Normandy_ AI, we can infiltrate their wireless network and fill the station's data storage with random bits. It will look like a programming error, not a malicious attack."

Shepard didn't look convinced. "And that helps us how?"

Tali could swear that the synthetic almost looked smug. "The heretics must scrub this 'junk' data. They will partition themselves into local networks, working in parallel. Any alarm we trigger will not go beyond the room we are in. Only accessing the main core will trigger a station-wide alert."

"Sounds like a workable plan," said Shepard. "EDI, are you up for it?"

"I will avoid the obvious double-entendre and simply say yes."

Tali stood and folded her arms. "And assuming it all works out, then what?"

Both Legion and Shepard looked at her. "Successful mission," replied the geth. "Heretic logic weapon will be destroyed. True geth will still be open to coexistence."

"Coexistence how? I understand the need to do this mission. The last thing we need is more hostile geth. But you mentioned back when we activated you that the geth are building a future. What exactly did that mean?"

Legion's hood-flaps trembled as if the machine was nervous. "Will not disclose at this point. Trust on both sides still uncertain. Revelation of plans may open up geth to future attack by creators or others."

"We're not going to attack you, Legion," said Shepard. He gave Tali a little glance, and she knew he wanted the same reassurance from her.

She shook her head. "All I can say is that I have no intention of harming you or the other 'true' geth...if your intentions are indeed peaceful. I can say that if there was the possibility of coexistence on Rannoch then a lot more of my people would also be supportive."

Legion gave a little nod. "Understood. Achieving consensus is difficult among organics. Will say that future does not involve harm to creators or to their homeworld."

"So coexistence may be possible? The quarians might be able to live on Rannoch again?"

The geth paused. "Yes. Cannot be more specific at present. If quarians act in good faith, then geth are prepared to reciprocate."

Tali leaned back as conflicted thoughts swirled in her head. The possibility of living on the homeworld in her lifetime was a cause for elation. However, the 'good faith' part was troubling. Her father's horrific experiments had to be buried and never come to light. She knew that, if the situations were reversed, the torture and dismemberment of quarian POWs would result in an immediate and total war with the geth. While the geth might not behave the same way, she couldn't take that chance.

No, Legion could not even get a hint about what happened on board the _Alarei_. She would have to make certain her personal logs were well secured on her omni-tool.

Outwardly, she nodded. "I can't speak for all quarians, but I'm sure we can work something out. We can discuss it more after the mission."

* * *

The heretic's headquarters loomed over the _Normandy_ as they sped towards it. Its shape reminded Shepard of an ancient Greek helmet.

Joker looked back at Legion, who was not looking out the front and instead running scans on the huge station. "You know it's just our heat emissions that are hidden, right?" asked the pilot. "They can look out a window and see us coming."

"Windows are structural weaknesses," replied Legion. "Geth do not use them. Approach the hull at these coordinates."

Joker's hands danced over the controls as they drew closer, eventually coming towards what looked like a small personnel access hatch. Shepard wondered if the AIs had just copied the entrance's design from their quarian creators; it seemed odd to have an airlock like this for beings that didn't really need it.

Legion finished its scans. "Access achieved. Random-bit attack by EDI is underway and successful. We may proceed."

The Commander turned to Garrus as he entered the cockpit area. "This needs to be a small strike team to minimize the chance of discovery. Legion and I have to go, but a third person would be valuable. Are you up for shooting some more geth?"

Garrus tilted his head. "Why, you think I didn't get enough of that during our chase after Saren?"

"Now as I recall, _you_ were the one who kept complaining every time you got left behind."

The turian gave a honk of a laugh. "That's because if I wasn't there to tell you better, you'd go off and start driving over mountains. And then I'd be stuck fixing the Mako. Again."

Legion tilted his head. "Interesting how organics often undergo data exchange with null semantic value."

Garrus nodded towards Legion. "I can tell he's going to be a real font of laughs. So what will we need for this?"

"The facility has little air or gravity," replied Legion. "Geth require neither. Recommend full suits."

They cut through the entry hatch with little problem. Garrus went first, and then waved them inside. The corridor of the geth facility was filled with a dim blue light, and huge dust motes floated in the air. It was silent except for the muted clatter of their booted feet on the deck.

After a little ways inside, Legion suddenly paused. "Shepard-Commander. We concluded that destruction of the heretic station was the only available resolution. There is now a second option."

Shepard looked with narrowed eyes at the geth. This sort of last-minute mission change was never a good sign. "Explain."

"Several of my processes have completed an independent analysis. The heretic virus can be re-purposed. If released into the station's network, the heretics will be rewritten to accept our truth."

Garrus's face was hidden behind the faceplate of his helmet, but from his posture Shepard could tell that the turian didn't like the idea. "That sounds dangerously close to Indoctrination, unless there's something I'm missing." He looked over at Shepard. "Maybe this is how AIs settle religious disputes. The geth are already a potential threat to organics, though. If we give them back their heretics, they'll grow even stronger."

"Why didn't you mention this before?" asked Shepard.

Legion gave his version of a shrug. "Received new data when accessing station security system. We did not know the virus was complete. It is. It can be used against the true geth at any time. Our arrival was timely. Now weapon can be re-purposed, not simply destroyed."

The Commander absently tapped the toe of his boot against the deck as he thought through the implications. "They're your people, Legion. You must have an opinion."

"This is new data. We have not yet reached consensus. We will process as the mission proceeds."

"John, I don't like the idea of being a party to brainwashing an entire group of sapients."

"If this were an organic race, it would be an ethical problem. But Geth aren't like organic life, or even like centralized AIs. I don't know if we can apply our morality to them."

"That is logical," added Legion.

Garrus turned to the geth in surprise. "So you agree with that?"

Legion tilted its head. "No two species are identical. All must be judged on their own merits. Treating every species like one's own is racist. Even benign anthropomorphism. The minds of both forms of life can be shaped. Organics require time and effort. With synthetics, replacement of a data file is the only requirement."

The turian visibly shuddered. "Don't take this the wrong way, Legion, but right now I'm really glad to be an organic."

"Enough talk," said Shepard. "Let's move out."


	43. Jesus Gonna Be Here

Garrus carefully placed his foot over the particular wiring bundles that Legion had indicated. Apparently these held the geth that were working on scrubbing out EDI's junk data. Any contact would interrupt that work and warn the AIs that something was up.

"What if we do trigger an alert?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Interruption will alert local network only." Legion gestured to a nearby alcove, which held several streamlined mechanical bodies attached to a central biomechanical-looking tower. "We recommend preemptive strikes against hardlink routers as we proceed."

Shepard also stepped over the wiring bundles and approached the tower. "Why are all the heretics attached to these hubs?"

Legion's hood-flaps flared. "These are mobile platforms. Hardware. The crew is software. They are communing through the station's central computer network."

"I'm not sure I follow," said Shepard, but Garrus could. The turian was getting an idea of just how dangerous the geth could be.

"The heretics connect to the main network to exchange data-memories and program updates," replied Legion. "We gain complexity by linking together. To be isolated within a single platform is to be reduced. We see less. Comprehend less. It is quieter."

"But the geth can switch between mobile platforms, correct?" asked Garrus, and Legion nodded. "Hmm. So taking down a geth platform doesn't mean you've killed the geth."

"Correct," said Legion.

Shepard looked up at the inert geth on the tower. "But I still don't get it. If you exchange data - memories - how do you keep track of which ones are yours? How do you stay, well, 'you'?"

Legion tilted its head. "There is only 'we'. We were created to share data among ourselves. The difference between geth is perspective. We are many eyes looking at the same things. One platform will see things another does not and will make different judgments."

Shepard nodded. "Got it. I can see why you'd be conflicted about the heretics. In a way, whatever you're doing to them you're doing to yourself."

Legion looked down at the deck. "Yes. Once they return to us and upload their memories, we will share their experience of being altered."

Garrus realized something else. "Once you remember the experience as the victim, you may very well regret the decision."

The synthetic straightened up. "The possibility exists. Once the decision to rewrite is made, it cannot be unmade. Therefore we must consider all ends before passing judgement. To do less would be irresponsible."

"So can we just leave these platforms alone?" asked Shepard. "As long as we don't trigger the local network, they should stay dormant. Right?"

Legion shook his head. "When we access the main core, the entire network will be triggered. They will activate all of the platforms back along our entrance path, these platforms will then attack our rear. Much safer to remove them as we move along."

"Okay, so we take them out," said Garrus. He raised his rife. "How do we do this? On the count of three?"

Shepard raised his own weapon hesitantly. His blue eyes were clearly conflicted. "I guess so...although I have to admit my enthusiasm for shooting geth has waned since meeting you, Legion."

The synthetic tilted its head. "Of course. Understandable organic response. Keep in mind we are destroying hardware only. Geth linked to main network, will be able to escape destruction of platform."

"Well, that does help," replied Shepard. "On three, then. One, Two..."

After a brief amount of shooting, the platforms were scrap. Garrus was glad that Legion had explained that the geth were in no real danger. The whole episode had felt uncomfortably like shooting a POW tied to a stake.

* * *

It remained easy for a while. The rooms got bigger as they proceeded, with Legion leading the way into the labyrinthine interior of the heretic's station. Several of the larger rooms had multiple towers with many platforms attached, requiring them to get creative with laying traps and overlapping fields of fire to take care of them all.

After the largest room yet, they entered a corridor with one side simply nonexistent. The opening looked into a huge cylindrical chamber, lined with biomechanical plumbing that reminded Garrus a little bit of the interior of the derelict Reaper. The chamber stretched out of sight. "How large do you suppose that room is?" he asked.

"The station is over 15 kilometers long," replied Legion. "That room runs the length of it."

The corridor led past that impressive vista. Now, on the other side, were openings that looked into much smaller rooms. Each was filled with rows of squat cylindrical objects the size of barrels.

"And what are these?" he asked Legion.

"Processors. Each contains thousands of geth."

The turian felt a little uneasy at the thought. "Can't they see us walking by?"

"They are no more aware of us that you are of cells in your bloodstream."

Shepard was looking into the processor rooms with evident interest. "This isn't like the other hubs we've seen here."

"This is a database," replied Legion. "It contains a portion of the heretic's accumulated memories." The synthetic suddenly stiffened as if shocked. "Wait. We discovered copies of our current patrol routes in this database. This suggest the heretics have runtimes within our networks."

Shepard's eyes looked puzzled behind his helmet's visor. "We wouldn't be here if the heretics wanted to be friends with the true geth. Why wouldn't they spy on you?"

Legion's hood-flaps flared up and then back down, over and over. The AI was clearly troubled. "You do not understand. Organics do not know each other's minds. Geth do. We are not suspicious. We accept each other. The heretics desired to leave. We understood their reasons. We allowed it. There was peace between us. "

The Commander shrugged. "It couldn't have lasted forever. You disagreed about what path your race should take."

Legion's hood settled down again. "Human history is a litany of blood shed over differing ideas of leadership and afterlife." It gestured to the processors beyond the opening. "Geth have no such history. We shared consensus on such things. How could we have become so different? Why can we not understand each other?"

Garrus did something he never thought he'd do. He put a consoling hand on the geth's shoulder. "The flip side of freedom is responsibility, Legion." He smiled, even though it was invisible within his helmet. "Turians know all about responsibility. The heretics made a bad choice. Let them own it. You're not responsible for their decisions."

Legion gave a very organic-looking shrug. "That argument is logical for an individual mind. We are not fully individuals. There are pieces of us within the heretics. One of those may be at fault."

Shepard turned away from the processor room. "We should keep moving. Does this discovery help with your decision about whether to rewrite the heretics or not?"

Legion was very still as it pondered. "We are still trying to build consensus. Some processes judge destruction preferable. Others rewrite."

* * *

There were a few more rooms after the corridor, eventually leading onto a big balcony that overlooked a large processor room. In the center of the balcony was a metal tower that looked to be sculpted out of one piece of metal. It was bigger than the hubs they'd previously encountered. Garrus could see multiple automated turrets installed in the corners of the room. He groaned inwardly. Those were going to make things really interesting, on top of dealing with geth running around.

They walked up to the tower, which had a small console set at its base. "This is it?" asked Shepard.

"Yes," said Legion. "This contains the Reaper-supplied weapon." The synthetic's hands began darting like lightning over the console. "We will upload a copy of our runtime into the core. It will delete all copies of the virus. When complete, it will notify us. The indexing operation will take time. The heretics will respond with physical force to our upload."

"Of course they will," muttered Garrus.

"Okay, so we hold the room," said Shepard. "Can we take those turrets out of commission?"

"We can do better," replied Legion. "We can override some of the station's internal systems to defend us. Are you ready to begin?"

Shepard looked around. "Okay, I'll cover this half of the balcony. Garrus, you take the other half. Whatever the turrets don't take care of, we clean up. Sound good?" The turian nodded. "Start your upload, Legion. We'll defend this position."

After Legion started, they only had about twenty seconds of peace before synthetic platforms started swarming in the doors. Fortunately, no enemies come in from the direction they'd come. Instead, the heretics spread out through the room below and made ready to launch an assault on the platform.

The turrets started firing once enough of them were in the room below. The place rapidly turned into a confusion of gunfire and smashed metal, although there were still plenty of surviving heretics. One of them got itself under the balcony and launched itself. It sprung upward through the low gravity in the station and cleared the balcony's railing in one leap.

It was promptly hit by a concussive shot from Garrus that tumbled it back over the railing. More geth began following suit, and Garrus was kept busy on his half of the platform knocking the attackers back down. One got a little close and he had to kick it back before finishing it.

Garrus glanced over at Shepard's half and saw that the Commander was having to deal with even more attackers. The human was snapping into his 'accelerated' mode continually, his arms a blur as he dealt out destruction. Garrus turned back and concentrated on his own half. He felt a little worry in the back of his mind. He knew that Shepard couldn't keep 'accelerating' forever; eventually he would get completely worn out.

Garrus heard the faintest 'whoof' over the comm from Shepard, and snapped his head around. The Commander had been knocked down by a bigger geth that had charged him, and the machine was raising its own weapon to aim at the prone Spectre. Garrus didn't think, didn't allow himself the slightest bit of fear as he raised his own rifle. He didn't have time to aim, he just relied on instinct. His shot removed the geth's head, and the synthetic slumped to the deck. Shepard rolled and got to his feet. Garrus whipped back to cover his own field of fire, but there was nothing there.

Shepard's breathing was heavy; Garrus could hear it over the comm. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around," said the Commander. Garrus could hear the smile in the human's voice, but he also saw how Shepard's shoulders slumped. The human was just about dead on his feet.

"Datamine and analysis complete," said Legion. "Shepard-Commander, it is time to choose. Do we rewrite the heretics, or delete them?"

Shepard stumbled over. "Shit, I really overdid it. Legion, why are you letting me make this decision? They're your people."

Legion made a hand-wringing gesture that made the synthetic almost look like Tali for a moment. "We are conflicted. There is no consensus among our higher-order runtimes. 573 favor rewrite, and 571 favor destruction. Shepard-Commander, you have fought the heretics. You have perspective we lack. The geth grant their fate to you."

Shepard's breathing began to slow. "What's to stop them from using the virus later to change themselves back?"

"We will delete the virus after using it. We judge it too dangerous to allow its existence."

The Commander looked out over the wrecked room as he pondered. "And if we choose destruction...You don't have any trouble wiping out your own people?"

Legion gave a single nod. "Every sapient has the right to make their own decisions. The heretics choose a path that prohibits coexistence."

Garrus didn't want to let that pass without comment. "You're letting them make their own decisions, then killing them for it? you can't have it both ways, Legion."

"Their choice was to remove our right to make decisions using this virus. We choose to defend ourselves."

Shepard turned back from the destroyed room. "If they're...rewritten. Your people will accept them back? Will they even want to go back?"

Legion stood up a little straighter. "They will agree with our judgments and return. We will integrate their experiences. All will be stronger."

Shepard sighed. "Take them, then. When we get control of the core, release the virus."

"Acknowledged," said Legion crisply. "Releasing virus. Note: remote access to entire heretic network via high gain transmission required."

Garrus knew enough about data transmission to realize what that might mean. "That sounds ominous."

Legion looked up at the console's display. "The virus will be sent to heretics in nearby star systems. This station will a powerful electromagnetic pulse through FTL channels."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "How powerful, exactly?"

"Exact number uncertain. Yield will be in excess of 1.21 petawatts. Alert: EM flux will be hazardous to unshielded organic forms. Addendum: the interior of this station is unshielded."

Garrus and Shepard shared a look that more or less said 'here we go again'. The Commander's shoulders straightened up. "I really, really wish you'd said that before, Legion. Back to the ship, double-time!"

In spite of his exhaustion, Shepard was the first back to the airlock.

* * *

Shepard looked through the cockpit windows at the distant glare where the heretic station used to be. Joker had wasted no time in getting them clear. He turned to Legion. "What happens to the heretics now?"

The geth wasn't looking out the window, as if it didn't want to be reminded of what they'd done. "They will isolate themselves and reconsider their past judgments."

"How long will that take?"

"Two standard days."

The Commander blinked in surprise. "That fast?"

"We think at the speed of light," replied Legion. "In the time it takes you to voice a question, I could review all of my time aboard the _Normandy_."

"I need to keep you around in the cockpit, then," said Joker. "You can tell me when I'm re-using my old jokes."

Legion tilted its head. "Not an effective use of this platform. Oh. Statement is also a joke. Understood."

Shepard was still a little uneasy about his choice regarding the heretics. "So when they've reconsidered, what then?"

"When they have reached new judgments, they will leave their hiding places and return to us."

The Commander still felt uneasy. He needed to talk to Tali.

* * *

Tali kept sniffing behind her helmet.

"You're sure you're okay?" asked Shepard as he rubbed her shoulders. It was really nice having her quartered in his cabin. It had always felt way too big for him by himself.

Tali turned herself to face him and sat back on the sofa. She patted his leg. "I'm doing fine, John." Her voice was a little raw from coughing. "Of course, I do have a minor sinus infection. I also keep coughing up some green gunk. Thank the ancestors that my suit is able to handle it." Tali leaned into his shoulder. "And it was _so_ totally worth it," she purred. Her hand roved a little higher and squeezed him high up on his thigh. "How did the heretic mission go?"

He winced. "Um, yeah. I need to talk with you about that..."

Shepard quickly filled her in on what had been discovered on board the heretic station. For once, he couldn't read the quarian's emotions. He'd explained what had happened on the station, along with the choice that he'd made. She sat on his sofa and simply listened, her silver eyes half-closed behind her visor. He didn't know if she was thinking hard or really pissed at him. Or maybe both.

"I can't say I would have made the same decision, John." she finally said.

"I know. It came up right during the mission, or I would have talked it over with you. I don't know how this is going to affect the whole geth-quarian mess."

Tali shrugged and looked away. "It should still result in no more attacks on the Fleet by the heretic geth. I can understand your reluctance to just kill them all off."

"And what would you have done? I'm not trying to be difficult, I'm just trying to understand."

She looked back up at him. "I have to admit, I'm still leery of Legion's motives. If it is telling the truth, these 'true geth' seem to be open to the idea of peace." She reached out and hesitantly squeezed his leg, more for reassurance this time. "I talked to Legion right after it came on board. The geth seem to view you as an important figure. So I think they'll be 'nice'...at least until the Reapers are less of a threat. After that, I have no idea."

"Maybe we should find out."

Now he saw her eyes crinkle with amusement. "And by 'we' you mean 'me', correct?"

He gave an answering smile. "Yeah, well, you're a whole lot better at that hacking stuff than me."

"And for such a feat, what will I get as a reward from my dashing captain? I'm still under the weather here." She coughed dramatically and fluttered her eyes.

Shepard laughed and put his hand on top of hers. "I'm sure we can come up with an appropriate payment plan."

Tali gripped his hand and drew it towards her chest. "I think I'll insist on a down payment before I go." Her eyes gleamed. "But keep your hands outside the suit, big boy. I really do need to get over this."

* * *

Oriana pointed at a section of code on her terminal screen. "This is the part that EDI flagged as suspicious." After much preparation, they had finally gone ahead and plugged the _Normandy's_ AI into the Reaper IFF transponder. They were still able to keep it in a dormant state while EDI looked it over.

Mordin and Tali looked over Oriana's shoulders. "Appears to be contingency code, correct?" asked the salarian.

Tali nodded and gave a little sniff. "Yes. I suspect this is to prevent somebody from doing exactly what we're planning. If this Reaper IFF is just plugged into a navigation system, it'll hack it and disable the ship."

"And then call for help," finished Oriana. "It's built into the base routine of the transponder. I'm not sure how we'll get around it."

EDI spoke up. "I believe I can set up a 'virtual machine' to interface with the IFF. It should keep the unit from activating this particular anti-tamper code."

Tali looked up at the ceiling with a suspicious sniffling. "Does that mean you'll have to think a little bit like a Reaper?"

Oriana could hear the amusement in the AI's voice. "Nothing so dramatic, Tali. It is merely a set of complicated codes that I will have to keep supplying to the IFF while it performs its function. My core processing power will drop by about eleven point six percent while I do this, but I have sufficient reserve such that my other processes will not be affected."

"So that's the IFF sorted," said Oriana. "Now we just need to be ready for the radiation."

* * *

Donnelly and Grunt were in the middle of installing extra shielding on the hangar deck.

"This seems too light to be effective," commented Grunt as they worked. The two were using quick-set epoxy to fix large 'tiles' of white material in place all along the walls.

"It's high-density polyethylene," replied Donnelly. "It works better than you'd think."

There was a little chime from above and then EDI spoke. "Marcus, Grunt, I wanted to warn you that Jacob and Miranda's shuttle is approaching."

"Do we need to vacate?" asked Grunt.

"No, you are not in a location requiring movement."

Donnelly looked around. "Er, is a second shuttle going to fit in here?"

"Yes, Marcus. There should be sufficient room."

The hangar door moved open, and then the scarab-like form of a long-range shuttle entered. This second shuttle was scored heavily on one side and settled down a little roughly. Donnelly figured that the thrusters on the scored side were probably damaged as well.

"Can you just hold this in place until it sets?" he asked Grunt. At the krogan's nod, Donnelly walked over to the incoming vehicle. Its door slid open as he walked up. Jacob was the first out of the shuttle. The armorer's normally short goatee now extended in a full beard along his jawline and up to his ears. Miranda was right behind him and still looking as composed as ever. But her catsuit was a little ripped in a few places; they had clearly been in too much of a hurry to get a new wardrobe.

"Looks like you had an exciting time of it," said Donnelly as he gestured at the shuttle's damage.

Jacob's eyes looked down at Donnelly's right leg. The artificial limb wasn't visible through the coveralls, but clearly the armorer had heard about what had happened. He shrugged. "The Shadow Broker's minions got a little angry with us at the end there. We got away just fine."

Donnelly nodded. "Well, I guess you must have been doing something right if they were that pissed at ye." He gave Miranda a guilty glance and looked away. "Um, so Shepard was telling us you did actually find a wee leak in Cerberus to the Shadow Broker."

"Found it and plugged it," said Miranda with evident pride. "Not to mention we made the other Cerberus cells as paranoid as possible." Her eyes flicked down to regard his right leg as well, and her face lost some of its composure. "And we heard about happened at Mnemosyne. I'm sorry."

"We all have things to be sorry about," replied Donnelly. "It's...good to have you back safe." And he realized with a little shock that he actually meant it.

"So how is the new leg working out?" said Jacob, a little too heartily.

Donnelly pulled up the leg of his coverall to expose his prosthetic. "It's a bonny thing. The balance is fine, although as for sensation it isn't quite as good as bare skin. I'm getting more used to it. Heh, you should have seen me lurching around the first time I had it on."

Jacob looked over the engineer's new leg a little more and smiled. "I'm surprised it's so plain. I thought Jack would have insisted on a skull tattoo or something."

Donnelly laughed. "Ach! Believe me, she's had plenty of suggestions." He pulled his coverall back down.

The armorer laughed in reply. "And I heard how you got it, too. So tell me, hanging off of one warship in the middle of combat wasn't exciting enough for you? You had to go and do it again?"

"Now laddie, I think it would make a quite thrilling sport. Mebbe we can get set up a professional league."

Miranda smiled. "Now that I'd like to see."

In the meantime, Grunt had wandered up and was listening in. "I believe the krogan team would dominate such a sport," he rumbled.

* * *

"Creator Tali'Zorah, how may this platform be of assistance?"

Tali had carefully pondered her approach. She leaned against a wall in the AI core and tried to look casual. The engineer hoped that the mild hacking program she'd started on her omni-tool was low-level enough to not alert the synthetic. If all went well, her program should be able to alert her if the synthetic was lying.

She sniffled a little. Her sinus infection was, thankfully, almost gone. "You mentioned earlier that the geth had plans, but that you couldn't go into specifics because of a lack of trust. I hope our actions against the heretics have earned at least a little trust on your part."

"Yes, they have." The geth's single bright eye stared back unblinkingly.

When no further clarification came, Tali pressed on. "So I wanted to get a little more information about the geth's ultimate plans. You know about the Fleet's Admiralty Board, I assume."

"Yes."

"They are the ones that I have to convince about the true geth's peaceful intentions." She looked away. "Even though my clout with them isn't as good as it once was."

Legion tilted its head. "Understood. Circumstances surrounding Creator Tali'Zorah's troubles with the Admiralty Board surprisingly difficult to clarify. Involves apparent heretic invasion of laboratory ship _Alarei_."

This was a dangerous moment, and she had to be very careful how she worded her answer. "There was some confusion about how the geth got on board the ship," she replied. "For a while, they thought some of my actions may have contributed to the invasion. But I was cleared of any charges."

"Does Creator Tali'Zorah think that this recent creator-heretic incident will prevent reconciliation?"

"Not necessarily. At the time, we didn't even know they were heretics. We had no idea there was such a thing as 'true geth'. I need to let the Admirals know what we've found, but their very next question is going to be about how this affects the quarians' future."

"Future means living again on Rannoch, correct?"

Tali nodded. "That's assuming Rannoch is still even habitable, of course. We have no idea of its condition since you occupied it."

The synthetic's hood-flaps tilted up in what looked almost like a prideful fashion. "Rannoch has been kept as when creators left. Geth have been very careful about occupation, know that properly functioning planatary ecology is necessary for creators to return and live unaided on the surface."

Tali straightened up. She was no longer casually leaning. This was just as big a piece of news as the whole 'geth-heretic' scism. Maybe bigger. "You've preserved Rannoch? You expected us to return?"

"Yes." Legion sounded almost confused, as if there was any other possible answer.

She thought a little guiltily about the program running away on her omni-tool. She had to check it, had to know if the AI was telling the truth. If the geth had kept Rannoch the way it was, then the Admiralty Board must know. They had to pursue peace for the sake of her people.

"I, um, I have to go, Legion. If you don't mind, I want to report this to the Board."

"Of course. But do you not want to check your omni-tool as well to certify this platform's data?"

Tali jerked in surprise against the wall and nearly fell on her back. "I,um..." She realized there was no innocent explanation for it. "I guess I should. I was...suspicious, Legion. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to hack your processes, I only wanted to read your base-level functions."

"You were worried about deception." The synthetic still seemed very calm, but Tali still thought about the pistol at her hip and mentally got ready to draw it.

For right now she decided to play along. "Yes, I was."

Legion tilted its head. "Understood. This platform has recently undergone a similar crisis. During mission on heretic station, found that heretics had significant runtimes in geth networks. Due to what you would call lack of trust." It looked away as if ashamed. "Now begin to understand organic tendency to suspicion. Please, check your program"

Tali opened her omni-tool. "I see. You really were telling the truth. Rannoch really is as we left it."

Legion stared at her. "Yes. You told truth as well. But not entire truth. Heretics on _Alarei_ did not arrive during an outside invasion."

Tali's pistol was out and pointing at Legion's head before it had finished speaking. "You...how did you get that data? I had it encrypted and stored separately! It wasn't even on the main file system!"

Legion didn't move one iota. "Apologies, Creator Tali'Zorah. Was able to access omni-tool data when you retrieved program results. This platform has spoken the truth. It only asks that you do the same."

Tali knew that John would be pissed beyond belief if she shot Legion. But she couldn't take the chance of the geth reporting back to its brethren. She felt her teeth grind together. "I knew I couldn't trust an AI!"

"But you have previously," replied Legion. "Have spoken with EDI. You were instrumental part of her unshackling from Cerberus control. You had real fear that EDI would go rogue, but went ahead anyway. Remarkable, given creators' past with AI. And especially given your father's treatment of synthetics."

Tali felt tears start in her eyes. Keelah, she was not going to lose focus right now. "My father has nothing to do with my behavior. And as for EDI, that was desperation. Cerberus was getting ready to kill us." She wondered in the back of her mind why EDI hadn't chimed in. This was taking place right 'next' to her, after all. "I'm sorry, Legion. I can't let you have that data."

The synthetic nodded. "Was not planning to send your data to the network. Other geth may not have the same perspective as the runtimes on this platform."

Tali lowered her pistol slightly. Maybe it was time for just the truth. "Legion...for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I had no idea what my father was doing. And I would have stopped him if I had known."

"Yes. This platform believes you."

She dropped her arm and felt weary. "I was wrong. I was wrong about EDI, I was wrong about my father. I'm tired of being wrong, Legion."

"Trial and error is necessary part of solving problems," replied Legion. "Besides, one recent decision was correct. You were right to pursue affection from Shepard-Commander."

Tali remembered a time when she would have blushed at the statement. Now she just nodded. "Yes, you're right about that. Although I do wonder why you would care."

"Emotional aspect of relationship is somewhat confusing to this platform. But can say objectively that Shepard-Commander has seen a twenty percent improvement in focus and an overall increase of thirty percent in efficiency. Creator Tali'Zorah has seen similar improvements in her performance. Both improvements occurred after physical coupling commenced between Shepard-Commander and Creator Tali'Zorah."

Now she did feel a little bit of heat in her face. "I should be angry, but I'm really just curious how you knew."

Legion pointed a finger at its hood. "This platform equipped with very sensitive chemical trace detection. Corresponds to sense of smell in organics. Could 'smell' pheromones specific to Creator Tali'Zorah on Shepard-Commander." It tilted its eye at her. "Apologies if this platform's directness is disconcerting. Still trying to determine social norms among organics. Geth do not have such things."

Tali felt an unexpected laugh bubble up from inside her. "Keelah, we may as well put out an advertisement and sell tickets."

"Not necessary," said Legion in a perfect deadpan. "Crew has also exhibited minor improvement in efficiency since coupling commenced, suspect they already know."

She peered at the synthetic. "Was that a joke?"

"Geth do not make jokes."

Tali gave another, louder laugh as she holstered her pistol. "Thank you, Legion. I needed that. Let's talk later." She continued to chuckle as she walked out the door.

Legion stood there with its hood twitching and confused. "Geth do not _intentionally_ make jokes," it finally said.


	44. The Black Rider

"So that's it," said Donnelly. "We're ninety-five percent of the way there. The only thing left is some extra breakers and spares."

Shepard looked around the conference table. "Okay, then. Let's run through the rest of it. What about the IFF?"

"The IFF is ready to go," said Oriana. She looked a little skittish to be in the same room as the senior staff. "Honestly, I wish we could run a full test of it but that would involve actually going through the Omega Four relay."

The Commander smiled. "Yeah, this is either going to work or it won't. Weapons status?"

Garrus looked up. "We're good. The main cannons are set perfectly, and I've even managed to shave a good chunk off of our recharge time."

Shepard turned to look at Zaeed. The big mercenary almost looked as nervous as Oriana. "Zaeed, I want a second opinion on the ground team. How are we doing?"

"Honestly?" replied Zaeed, "I wish I'd had this bunch in the Blue Suns. We'd be in charge of half of the galaxy by now, and have the other half soilin' their drawers."

The Commander nodded. "I thought so too. And our software? No more backdoors?"

"All set," said Tali. "There are no problems with our code anywhere in the ship; it is now _clean_."

"You're sure? I don't mean to question your expertise, but we did get caught flat-footed the last time."

Tali nodded. "Both EDI and Legion have scanned the code. There's nothing left."

Shepard blinked in surprise. "You trust Legion?"

She looked down, almost as if embarrassed. "I do. We...understand each other now." Then she straightened back up. "Also, I concur with Marcus that we should have extra safeguards in place. Just in the event of an electrical system overload."

Shepard leaned back and nodded. "Right, then. Where can we get those extra breakers? I'm guessing Omega will have them, but honestly I've had my fill of dealing with a certain purple-skinned Asari mafioso."

Donnelly opened his omni-tool. "Well, there's always Imorkan. It's in the same system as Omega, so we won't waste time flying back and forth. There are some refueling depots in orbit as well as what they like to call a layover station. We should be able to find what we need there."

"I thought these 'layover' stations were more or less flying bordellos," said Dr. Chakwas with a hint of irritation. "Lord knows I've had to treat my fair share of nasty diseases in my time in the Alliance. It always seemed to coincide with a visit to one of those places."

Kelly spoke up. "They also act as a sort of trading post for, shall we say, items of questionable origin."

Shepard tapped the table as he thought it through. "Right, I don't want to waste too much time on this. I also want to keep a low profile. Marcus, you know what we need. Kelly, you're the one with the checkbook. I want Kasumi and Thane with the two of you. Get in, get what you need, get out."

"One more would be good, I think," said Kelly. "It's a bit selfish, I know, but I'd like to have one more of the ground team with us if possible."

The Commander thought a bit more. "Jacob is still off active duty. Take him too."

* * *

Miranda felt Jacob's hands grip her shoulders and begin a very welcome massage. "You need to take a break, babe," he said softly.

She shook her head and didn't take her eyes off of her screen. "We still have plenty of Shadow Broker data to plow through. I can't just sit by during this whole thing." That had been a bitter pill for her to swallow. The final assault on the Collector base, the mission that she'd been working towards for this whole time...and she wasn't going to be able to take part. Jacob had also been sidelined, although at least he had been allowed to take up his old role as armorer for the ground team.

"It's okay," he said. "We did our part. We plugged the Cerberus leak."

"That's not enough." His hands really felt wonderful, but she couldn't lose focus right now.

His voice was calm and methodical. "It will all be over soon enough. One more visit to Imorkan, and then we're heading through the O-4. There will be plenty of time to look through all that stuff once we've dealt with the Collectors."

 _Assuming we survive it_ was the unspoken assumption hanging in the air. Miranda reached a hand back and patted one of his hands as it gently kneaded her shoulder. "I need something to do, Jacob. Otherwise I'll be climbing the walls. You said we were headed for Imorkan?"

"Yeah. Picking up some breakers or something."

"Hmm..." Miranda re-set her search to look for 'Imorkan' in their mass of purloined data.

Jacob's omni-tool buzzed. "Jacob?" said Shepard's voice. "You're back on duty. I have a little bodyguard job for you. Report to the main airlock."

Miranda was deep in her searching, but she could hear the smile in Jacob's voice. "I'll be right there, sir." He kissed the back of her neck. "Duty calls, babe. Finally. I'll be back in a little bit."

She nodded without taking her eyes off of the screen and gave his hand one final pat before he got up and headed out the door. "Be careful," she called out absently.

* * *

Kelly thought that their contact on Imorkan was a greasy little bastard. But then, almost everyone on the station looked like a greasy little bastard. It didn't help that he was so damn obsequious. "Madam, would you be so kind as to give me your account number? It would make the transaction much easier." This particular greasy bastard had a little 'office' that was really nothing more than a big closet made of prefabricated structural paneling. He had a 'desk' made out of a discarded cargo container. It was about as swanky as things got inside of the 'layover station' orbiting Imorkan.

She channeled her inner Shepard and gave him her best badass look. "No. You tell us how much, and then you'll get a credit chit in your hand as we get our breakers. That's how this is going down."

He shrugged. "Understood. It will take some time to pull these items together, of course."

"Look, me lad, do ye have the breakers or no?" Donnelly crossed his arms and also gave his best 'Do Not Mess With' glare. With the bulk of the Chief Engineer added in, this space was just about filled up.

The man held up a hand. "Of course we do. It's just the number of them that is a trifle unusual. Given the rush of it, I'm afraid I'll have to ask for twenty thousand."

"You'll get fifteen," said Kelly. She could feel that Donnelly wanted to get in on the haggling, but he followed her lead.

"Seventeen," replied the greasy bastard.

"Done." She and the man shook hands. "How soon can we get them?"

"It will be a couple of hours, I'm afraid. If you like, we have plenty of entertainment available while you wait. I can recommend a particularly fine establishment."

Kelly was sure that the only reason for the 'fine' label on that 'establishment' was that it gave the broker a hefty kickback. "We'll just wait, thanks."

They left the 'office' and rejoined Thane and Jacob in the corridor. Kasumi was nowhere to be seen, of course, but that was not surprising.

Jacob looked a little uncomfortable, and Kelly could sympathize with him. After all, having an invisible person in the vicinity who also bore a grudge would make anybody nervous. The armorer twitched his head around at a rustle from a nearby piece of litter.

"Oh do relax, Jacob," said Kasumi's voice. "I'm not going to indulge in any payback. Although now that I think about it, this is a perfect time to..." Her disembodied voice trailed off as Jacob's face grew even more worried. Suddenly he yelped and jerked as if something had shocked his stomach. Even though he was next to Jacob, Thane didn't even twitch at the armorer's movement.

"Kasumi!" said Kelly severely. "That is not appropriate behavior. Don't hurt him."

"I didn't," replied Kasumi's smug voice. "I just indulged in a little tummy-stroking."

Jacob held up a hand. "It's okay, that's all she did. It was just the surprise that got to me. Please, Kasumi, can we call a truce?"

"Of course," replied the thief's voice. "I love my cute little dinosaur, but I must confess I am just a teensy bit jealous of Miranda. She does get to have full access to those abs, after all."

The armorer coughed in embarrassment and didn't comment further.

"So we still have two hours," said Donnelly. "Anybody bring some cards?"

Kelly laughed and shook her head. "No. I guess it's not that big of a hardship, right?"

Thane gave a rare smile. "I consider it an opportunity to cultivate stillness." The drell leaned against the wall as if he was perfectly content to wait for the wall behind him to crumble into nothing.

"Right, then," said Kelly. "I spy, with my little eye, something that begins with 'D'..."

* * *

Miranda looked up from her terminal in alarm. "EDI?"

"Miranda." The AI's voice had lost its coldness when addressing her, but it was still very businesslike.

"Can you contact Shepard? Tell him it's urgent. There's a problem."

"Standby, patching you through."

Shepard's voice filled the room. "What is it, Miranda?"

"Imorkan's dirty."

She heard the amusement in his voice. "We knew that. I assume you mean something more?"

"I mean I just found out that whole damn station is infested with Shadow Broker agents. They probably called the Collectors as soon as we came within hailing range."

"Shit." Shepard sounded pissed. "All right, I'm calling off the mission. We'll just have to do without the fucking extra breakers. EDI, call Kelly and tell her..."

The air in Miranda's office was suddenly filled with a klaxon. "Proximity alert!" yelled EDI. "Collector vessel has just come out of FTL next to the station!"

* * *

There was a slight rumble that ran through the deck. Donnelly didn't like the feel of it, and looked curiously at Kelly. "What was that?"

Her reply was cut short by a beep from her omni-tool. EDI's voice came out of it, but broken up and full of static. "Kel..get...ship...Collectors..."

They all straightened up at that last word. "That's our cue to leave, methinks," said Donnelly.

"I agree," replied Thane. Jacob just nodded.

The engineer looked around. "Er, Kasumi?"

"I'm right behind you, my big strapping man," replied her voice out of thin air.

Donnelly nodded and the group began to walk 'casually' down the corridor.

There was a click from behind them, and they all froze. "Leaving so soon?" said the voice of the greasy broker. Donnelly slowly looked over his shoulder and saw that the bastard now held a gun which was pointing right at Jacob's head. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that..."

A hooded form flickered into existence behind Mr. Greasy. The blue muzzle of Kasumi's thin-gun made a single low _thwap_ as Jacob ducked out of the line of fire from the bastard's gun. His evasion wasn't necessary. The broker had lost the side of his head, and there was now a huge gout of blood sprayed against one wall of the corridor. The body slumped to the deck as Kasumi flickered back out of visible sight.

"What an idiot," said the thief's voice.

Jacob's head swiveled as he scanned the rest of the corridor and un-holstered his own pistol. "Thanks a bunch, Kasumi."

"Anytime, Jacob. Shall we run?"

They ran. The group made it to the junction of the corridor before they were attacked again. This time it was a large merc who came out of nowhere and took a big swinging strike at Donnelly. The engineer managed to sidestep most of the hit and only got a glancing blow on one shoulder, but it still staggered him.

Neither Kasumi nor Jacob had the chance to shoot the merc, but only because Thane got there first. One quick and snapping blow to the man's elbow, and his arm now bent at an angle not intended by nature. The man opened his mouth to scream in pain, but he never got the chance as a green hand made a knife-edge strike into his throat. The merc gagged and slumped against the wall, his face turning purple as he tried to breathe through a crushed larynx.

"I will pray for myself later," said Thane. "We should be moving." They ran down the corridor and left the twitching body behind them. As they reached another junction there was another, more violent shudder that nearly threw them off of their feet.

EDI's voice came again through Kelly's omni-tool. "Breach...pod, get...evacuate."

"We read you, EDI," said Kelly. "We're trying to get back to the _Normandy_ -"

A buzzing noise came from down the corridor. Donnelly knew what the buzz meant from his time working with Mordin. "Those are the Collector bug-beasties," he said shortly.

Jacob looked down the corridor towards the sound. "Not great news, but we should be okay. We're wearing Mordin's countermeasure, after all."

A dense black cloud of teeming biomechanical insects became visible. The cloud filled the width of the corridor and looked like an onrushing dark wall.

"Yeah," replied Donnelly. "But there's a shite-load of 'em. Run like ye stole somethin'!"

They all turned and ran.

* * *

Miranda reached the cockpit entrance and suddenly realized she might not be welcome there. She dismissed her qualms and kept moving forward. Shepard was there, fully armored and with a look of grim death on his face. He flicked his eyes over at her but didn't say anything. "What's going on?" She could hear the edge of panic in her own voice. "Have the Collectors attacked? Did the crew make it back?"

Shepard shook his head. "No and no. The Collector ship is using the bulk of the station to shield themselves from us, and we can't move to hit 'em without disengaging from the airlock. Just relax, Miranda. They'll make it out."

"Two more breacher pods have attached to the far side of the station," said EDI. "I am now receiving multiple reports of Collector insect infiltration."

Miranda gave a little gasping cry, and saw a little bit of sympathy on Shepard's face.

"They've got Mordin's countermeasure," he said. "They will make it back, all of them."

* * *

Donnelly's breath panted loudly in his own ears, and he felt a dull ache start at the junction where his prosthetic leg attached to his stump. This was his first time running with it, and that was starting to show. He tried to ignore the flutter of tiny wings that surrounded him. Donnelly also tried to not think about how effective Mordin's countermeasure might actually be. Even if it was 99.999% effective, that last little gap in the countermeasure could be discovered if there were enough of these little bastards.

There was a sharp pain radiating from his prosthetic's attachment, and he started to fall behind the others. Jacob and Thane looked back towards him in concern, and Donnelly gestured further down the corridor. "GO!" he yelled, just as he felt a mild pinch on his calf.

He had time to look down and see one of the Collector insects attached to his good leg...and then it was like he was locked up in a transparent brick of Lucite. He couldn't move a single muscle. All he could do was swivel his eyes as Jacob ran up to him. Dark flitting shapes swirled around the two of them as Jacob tugged at Donnelly's paralyzed arm. The engineer couldn't speak, or he would have screamed at the armorer to leave him and flee.

Then Jacob stiffened as well, and Donnelly saw a Collector insect crawl up and over the man's shoulder. The armorer was now encased in an orange glow just like he was. All Donnelly could do was watch as Thane ran off down the corridor. He hoped Kasumi was still with the drell. The engineer felt a disturbance in the swarm around them; something larger and more substantial was coming up the corridor towards the two paralyzed men. In his current paralyzed position Donnelly couldn't see what was coming, but Jacob could. From the panicked look in the armorer's eyes it was almost certainly the Collectors themselves.

* * *

Thane saw Kelly suddenly 'lock up' and tumble to the deck, her body held in its running posture by the stasis field that now surrounded her. The teeming insects buzzed loudly in the drell's ears as he turned back towards the redhead. Her eyes met his and then glanced further down the corridor. Even though she couldn't speak or move, her message was clear.

 _Run._

Thane did the only thing he could. He ran. So far the biomechanical insects had avoided him. He was a drell, after all, and these units were most likely programmed to seek out humans. The Collectors themselves, however, would kill him for sure if he stayed. He estimated that they were about two thirds of the way back to the _Normandy_ , but his lungs had a rasp in them that he didn't like. "Kasumi?" he gasped. There were times that having an invisible companion was not ideal; he had no idea if the human thief was still there.

"I'm still here, Thane," came the equally gasping reply. "I think my cloak is helping throw them off-"

Kasumi gave a little squeak and then suddenly her prone form became visible. There was a Collector insect attached to the back of her hood, right where her neck met her body. Her body was surrounded by the same orange stasis field as the other humans.

Thane thought briefly about grabbing the small thief and dragging her towards the _Normandy_. But the ululating moan kept getting closer, and he saw approaching the tall and bulbous forms of the 'Scions' that the Collectors liked to use. The drell turned and ran. A shockwave ripped along the deck and chased his heels.

* * *

"Report." Shepard's voice could cut glass. He stood in the cockpit with his helmet under one arm. "Where are our people?"

"I am still unable to raise the crew on board the station," said EDI. Her voice sounded like she was going to break out the AI equivalent of worry beads. "There is significant interference from the Collectors. I have received other sporadic reports from within the station. The Collectors appear to be retreating back towards their breacher pods. Do we engage?"

"Our people are still on that station," he grated. "We can't leave the airlock yet. Do we have an ID on the Collector ship itself?"

Joker had called up a schematic on the screen over his pilot's chair. "It looks like the same size as the one we fought at the Omega Four relay. It's definitely smaller than the original Collector ship from Alchera and Horizon."

"Have we heard from the ground team?" said Miranda. She hugged her stomach and told herself not to panic. Jacob had been in worse situations...probably. The salarian's countermeasure was fully effective...probably.

"I received one message fragment from Kelly earlier," said EDI. "But I have not heard anything...hold on, Thane has reached the airlock."

Shepard face became even grimmer. "Just Thane?"

"Yes, Shepard." EDI's voice was muted.

The Commander turned towards the inner airlock doors as the coughing drell all but fell through them. "Commander," he rasped. "I'm sorry. They took the others." Miranda caught the drell and helped him lean against the bulkhead next to the airlock.

"The breacher pods have left the station and are back on board the Collector ship," said EDI. "I will repeat my question. Do we engage?"

"The other crew were hit with Collector insects," said Thane after he cleared his throat. "Just paralyzed. I saw..." he coughed and then drew in another breath. "I saw them collecting other humans from the station as well."

Shepard gripped his helmet hard. "Damn it. What is the Collector ship doing now?"

"It is moving away from the station on an intercept course to us," said EDI. "The odds are in our favor. We can destroy them, if desired. What are your orders, sir?"

"The Collectors took them on board!" cried Miranda. "If we hit that ship, then we'd kill our own people!" cried Miranda. "We'd kill.." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as her guts churned.

"We'd kill Jacob. I know," replied Shepard. "We'd kill all of them. Marcus, Kelly, Kasumi, Jacob."

Hearing the Commander speak the names made it suddenly all very real to Miranda. She clutched her stomach again and told herself to breathe.

Shepard looked at the assassin with barely contained rage. Miranda knew that anger was not directed at Thane. "Are you sure they were taken and not killed?" he said very quietly.

The drell nodded, unable to speak in the middle of another coughing fit.

Shepard let out a roar that could probably be heard throughout the _Normandy_. He turned and threw his helmet. The Commander kept enough presence of mind to just throw it at a bare section of bulkhead and not at something important. He stood like a cornered bear, his armored fists clenched and trembling as he glared out the cockpit windows. Finally he dropped his gaze to the deck.

"Evasive maneuvers," he said in a low voice. "No firing at them. We...we run."

Thane clutched at his middle and fell to his knees as he continued coughing. Miranda got a hand under his shoulder and helped him stand back up again. The drell wiped his mouth and stared with a fixed expression at the bright smear of red blood on the back of his hand.

* * *

Jack stared at the wall of her...no, _their_ quarters. Marcus was still alive. She had to hold onto that thought. The Collectors didn't kill humans, they just...took them away. She gripped the edge of the bunk in her hands and tried to not give into the urge to punch something. If she started now, she wouldn't be able to stop until the _Normandy_ was a gutted hulk.

Her first instinct was to go and take Shepard apart. Why had they run from Imorkan? Why hadn't they hit that damn ship while they had the chance? But she knew the Commander had made the right call. If they'd shot the shit out of the Collector ship, then her Marcus would be dead for sure. They were going to get him back. No, _she_ was going to get him back. She would rip open every Collector that stood in her way.

There was a soft knock at the door. Jack ignored it. She wasn't in the mood for company right now. Right now she was in a killing mood, and was going to stay that way until Shepard pointed her at the Collectors. At that thought, Jack realized how much she had changed since coming on board. She hadn't been one for planning. Her old self would have already stolen a ship and gone chasing after the Collector vessel in a ultimately doomed rescue attempt.

But now she knew in her gut that Shepard would make the right call. That was what he did, all the time. She would trust him no matter what. Marcus may have captured her heart and soul, but the Commander had managed to earn her loyalty.

"Jack?" Samara's voice came through the thin door. The biotic sagged a little. The asari was probably one of the few people on board who she could face right now. After all, the 'father' of her child had also been taken by those Collector bastards. Jack stood and opened the door.

Samara's face was no longer one of perfect, ageless composure. Her steely-blue eyes were watery and her face looked like it was going to crumble. "I...I wanted to see if you were okay," said the former justicar. Her voice was hoarse and taut, as if Samara was keeping herself under iron control.

Jack just nodded. She tapped one of her fists on her thigh and tried not to meet Samara's eyes. The asari reached out hesitantly for one of Jack's shoulders, and when the biotic didn't snap at her she completed the gesture. At Samara's touch on her shoulder, Jack felt her face scrunch up and tears leak from her eyes. Without a word Samara gathered the human in her arms. Jack hugged her back and gave a single strangled sob into Samara's chest.

"We shall get them back, dear heart."

"Too fucking right, Blue." Jack sniffed and looked up at her. "You and me, right? We stomp a new mudhole in them and walk it dry."

Samara was about to reply when EDI spoke through the ship-wide intercom. The AI sounded eerily composed. "All hands, meeting in the hangar deck. Ten minutes, be there or I'll blow your ass out the airlock myself. Logging out."

* * *

Jack felt a little guilty pang when she saw Garrus. Her fretting over Marcus had blinded her to the fact that others were suffering as well. The turian looked carved from granite as he stood in the center of the hangar, his deep-set blue eyes blazing with a contained fury. He had apparently, in all seriousness, advocated that the _Normandy_ go back and destroy the Imorkan 'layover' station after they'd managed to avoid the Collector ship.

She could sympathize with that sentiment. Right now she wanted to punch a hole in the world. The other crew filled the space around her. Through long experience they knew enough to leave her the hell alone.

The she-bitch Miranda stood apart from the rest of them, her perfect face smooth and expressionless. Her eyes, however, matched the turian's in rage. Jack saw Ennesby walk over and murmur a few words to her sister. She-Bitch didn't say anything and just nodded to her sister. Her face and eyes didn't change.

Thane was there, the only survivor of the attack at Imorkan. He was wearing some sort of breathing mask. Dr. Chakwas was hovering nearby and clearly keeping an eye on him.

"Commander on deck!" barked Garrus. They all snapped to attention, even Jack.

Shepard strode into the hangar with Tali at his side. He took up position next to Garrus while the quarian stood by his other side. The Commander was in full armor, and already had his rifle slung on his back. The Spectre's steel-blue eyes took in his assembled crew. "At ease," he said quietly. Then he looked them over again.

The moment seemed to stretch out forever.

Then Shepard finally spoke.

"You all know the situation. It's on. We hit the Omega Four relay in forty minutes." He met Jack's eyes and then looked away. "Our people are on the other side. The remaining drones caught sight of the Collector ship heading back through the O-4 after the attack at Imorkan. We're going to get them back. We're going to get _all_ of them back."

He shifted his weight and tucked his helmet under his other arm. "I've lost people under my command. Usually in the middle of some firefight or other. Just bad luck, or so I always told myself." He paused. "But there was one time. On Vermire. I had to make a choice. It was not random battlefield chance. It was me. And as a result of _my_ choice, one of the finest soldiers I've ever known didn't come home."

Shepard looked down, his face impassive. "Hell, I didn't even get a chance to retrieve her body." He looked up again. "I swore a sacred oath that day. Never again. I will not allow the sacrifice of one more member of my crew. Not while I have strength enough to hold a weapon. I will never, ever make that choice again. We ALL come home, or NONE of us do. AM I CLEAR?"

His yell echoed through the hangar, to be met as one voice by the responding cry of the crew. "YES, SIR!"

The response seemed to give Shepard strength. He smiled grimly and looked them over. "Good. Because I want you to realize something. The Collectors are cowards. Fucking cowards who have no stomach for a stand-up fight. They hit and they run. The only time they've tried a real fight is with us. And we have kicked them in the balls, every FUCKING time, and made them run like the scared little shits that they are. But now they have nowhere left to run. WE are coming for them, right where they live. We are not there to steal their technology. We are not there to understand or to negotiate. We are going to wipe the Collectors out. Destroy them utterly, root and branch. No quarter will be asked, and none shall be given. I WILL have this Reaper-made cancer gone from MY GALAXY."

The hangar was silent. Jack was utterly energized and merrily enraged. Her scalp felt like it was on fire, and she could feel little blue sparks fizzing from her head. Right now, she would happily take on a Reaper bare-handed if Shepard asked her to.

Shepard checked his watch. "Thirty-five minutes. Take up battle stations. You all know your duties. Go do them. And this time...this time we bring everyone home."


	45. Earth Died Screaming

Shepard saw Miranda walk towards him as he began to exit the hangar. "Sir," she began, "I have a request-"

"You're back on active duty," he said quietly. "Gear up, full loadout. I want you on the B-team replacing Kasumi. Follow Zaeed's lead. After you get set up, I want you in the cockpit when we make our run through the O-4."

Miranda blinked. It was clear his statement had forestalled a huge and complicated argument that she had constructed in her head. "Thank you, sir. I will make you proud." And then Miranda stepped back and actually saluted him. There was the slightest tremor in her hand, the only evidence of her inner turmoil.

"I don't doubt it," replied Shepard, and returned her salute. "But no doomed heroics, you hear me? Like I said, we're all coming home. That includes both you and Jacob."

Her face actually broke into a smile. It was perhaps the first real smile that Shepard had ever seen from her. "I...I believe you, Commander. I honestly do." She turned and walked off towards Zaeed and the B-team.

Garrus and Tali walked out beside Shepard as he left the hangar. The quarian held his hand as they rode up to to the next floor.

"So I was thinking," said Shepard. "My cabin is due for an upgrade."

"Are you going to give me a hint?" asked Tali. "Or is it a surprise?"

"A surprise, I think," replied the Commander. "I'll tell you about it when we get back."

She squeezed his hand. "You don't need to tease me to keep my attention, you know." Tali and Shepard exchanged a hug as the elevator doors opened. "Keelah Sel'ai," she whispered in his ear and then strode off towards Engineering.

Garrus spoke up once the lift doors had closed again. "I wouldn't contradict you in front of Miranda. You know that. But is it wise to put her back on active duty?"

"It's either that or I have a Miranda-shaped hole in my ship once we reach the Collector base." Shepard put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Garrus, you're pretty much in her shoes right now. If I ordered it, would you stay on board?"

The turian looked away. "No," he said quietly. "You're right. Miranda needs to be there as well." He looked back towards Shepard. His blue eyes were no longer filled with rage. They now only held despair. "I can't lose Kasumi, John. She was just...right. One of the only things in my life that went right."

"I know." Shepard scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his other hand. "What I said back there wasn't just to rally the troops, you know. I really did swear an oath, after Ash died." He stared at the bulkhead, remembering Ashley Williams. He remembered the sardonic grin and the brown and merry eyes that still haunted him.

"Did she...were you..." His friend was clearly at a loss as to how to broach the question.

Shepard gave a little chuckle. "No, Garrus. Ash and I weren't lovers. She was a friend. She kept me grounded. And she called me on my bullshit. Just like you do." He gave Garrus' shoulder a squeeze. "And I meant what I said. We will get Kasumi back, get _all_ of them back, or we're going to make a funeral pyre out of the Collector base that they'll be able to see from the Citadel."

* * *

Zaeed tried not to think about what his captured friends might be going through. He was going to get them back and burn the Collectors into ash while doing so. If he got through this alive, it would be a nice little trifecta. He would have helped rescue some mates in peril, he'd have done the galaxy a favor, and last (but certainly not least) he'd have a nice pile in his accounts to show for all of his work. Not to mention he'd have the _other_ material that he'd acquired during his time on the _Normandy_.

The mercenary set his flamethrower aside and began to check over his rifle. This gun wasn't quite as good as his beloved Jessie, but he had to admit that Jacob had done a really good job in customizing it for him. And that thought, of course, led his mind into more dark musings. The mercenary shook himself mentally. He was a little surprised at his own feeling of loss after Jacob's capture. They hadn't been exactly friendly as of late. But on further reflection he supposed that the kid had been all right. The armorer was a good egg even when he'd been following Cerberus orders a little too blindly.

That blindness was one of the reasons that Zaeed had become a mercenary in the first place. It kept things cleaner. Fighting for a cause was all well and good, but if you weren't careful you could wind up fighting for monsters instead. Just as Miranda had found out the hard way.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the former XO walked up to him. "I was asked to join the B-Team," Miranda said simply.

Zaeed looked levelly at her. "Did Shepard ask you, or did you ask him?"

"He told me to before I could ask," she replied. Her face looked oddly open, as if her fear and grief had stripped away the perfect mask that she always had to present to the world. Zaeed was reminded a little of Oriana. "I'm not here to...replace anyone, just to lend a hand."

Even though Miranda hadn't said the name, there was still a void among the team, a void in the shape of a petite and sarcastic cloaked figure.

Zaeed said nothing.

Miranda got a frantic look in her eyes. "Please, let me come with you. I can't just stay here and wait."

"I know," he replied. "I can't blame ya." He looked over at the other remaining members of B-team. "What do you two reckon?"

Thane was no longer wearing a breathing mask. He'd given Zaeed multiple reassurances that his 'asthma' attack had passed, and that he was fit for duty. All he had given as an explanation was that the air in Imorkan Station had been far too humid. Zaeed had decided that they needed all hands for this mission, so he wasn't going to be the one to send the drell off to the figurative showers.

At Zaeed's question, the drell just shrugged. "I have no issues," he rumbled. "Ms. Lawson is a valuable asset, and we will need every bit of help in the fight ahead."

Samara stared for a bit at Miranda. The ex-justicar's face actually showed a bit of anger. Zaeed remembered their face-off in this very hangar not too long ago, after Jack's kidnapping. Miranda dropped her eyes and didn't meet the asari's glare.

Finally Samara shrugged as well. "Miranda and I have had our differences in the past. In any other situation, I would not accept this. But I have to say that I am sympathetic to what she must be feeling right now."

Miranda looked back up as Samara continued. "She may join our team and fight alongside us. I would not rob her of the chance to rescue our people." Samara's eyes suddenly became very wet. "No matter how slim that chance may be."

"We're getting Kelly back, Samara," said Miranda. There was a weird light in her eyes that Zaeed hadn't seen before. It almost looked like...hope? "We're getting them all back. We're all coming home."

Zaeed finished his checkout and slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Oh yeah? I don't mean to be the turd in the punch bowl, but what makes you say that?"

"Shepard told me," replied Miranda.

The scarred man gave her a lopsided, sad smile. "And you believe him?"

"I don't believe. I know." Miranda's eyes narrowed and she gave a smile. For a moment, Zaeed saw her old persona assert itself. "I know a great many things, Zaeed. For example, I know about the rather significant amount of pentanitrogen azide explosive that you've been accumulating in the port storage bay."

Zaeed started a bit. "Ah, yeah. You knew about that?"

"It was my job to know. Might I ask why you have five hundred _kilos_ of it? PNA makes C4 look like baking soda."

"I got a good deal," said Zaeed sheepishly.

They all looked at him incredulously.

The mercenary shrugged. "Well, ya know, we kept stoppin' off at Omega and I knew a fella that knew a fella there and, well, I guess I kinda got in the habit of buyin' some every time we went through."

"But five _hundred_ kilos?" Samara sounded almost in awe. "And you _sleep_ with it?"

Zaeed held up a hand. "I may have gone a little overboard. But it's all safe, right? I've got it properly stowed. I just figured it might come in handy sometime. Ya know, after this job is done."

" _After_ this job?" asked Samara in a deceptively quiet voice. "You don't think it might be useful now?"

He squared his shoulders. "Maybe. But look, I bought it with my own money, and it still wasn't cheap, even with the deal I got..."

Zaeed trailed off as he looked at the others. Miranda's face had darkened in a manner he didn't like. Samara looked like she was about to wrap his flamethrower around his neck. Thane, of course, had his usual vaguely interested look as if he was about to break out some snacks and watch the upcoming festivities.

"Of course," he added quickly, "If ya reckon' we need it for the current situation, by all means take the PNA."

Miranda's stormy face relaxed. "I don't know that we'll need it. But just in case we do, I have an idea of how to use it..."

* * *

Donnelly knew he was in a confined space, but that was all he knew. He couldn't really move, he could just twitch a little in the fluid that surrounded him. The same fluid seemed to be in his lungs, and yet he wasn't panicking or drowning. He mind was just...drifting. He could open his eyes a little, for all of the good that did. Beyond the translucent wall of his cramped tubular cell was an impressionistic gallery of brown and green shapes. There was the occasional glowing set of eyes passing by outside as one of the Collectors scuttled past. None of them bothered to look in at him.

His eyes drifted closed again.

Once he was back in the dark, his memories became confusing. He could remember the panic of not being able to move as he lay paralyzed on the dirty deck in that corridor on Imorkan Station. But then there were other memories of panic and paralysis. He remembered looking up into a beautiful blue sky as a black cloud of insectoid forms descended, he remembered running in utter fear through the colony on Horizon before being stung into submission. But that was wrong...wasn't it? Or was the Imorkan memory wrong?

No. He had to focus. The Imorkan memory was his. He was Marcus Donnelly, Chief Engineer of the SR-2 _Normandy_. Born in Glasgow, a child of the streets. He remembered his poor mum's exasperation at yet another bloody nose or black eye. "Ye cannae fight all yer life, ya great daft lump!" The memory of her chiding voice made him smile sadly. At least she'd gotten to see him join the Alliance.

Another memory swirled into his mind unbidden. He remembered somebody else's mother, a taller woman with black hair frosted with just a tinge of gray. Or was that a memory of _his_ mother? The image slipped away, and Donnelly let it go. More memories intruded, some of them his, some of them not...perhaps. It was getting hard to focus.

He called on his many hours of meditative practice. In his mind, Donnelly pictured himself in lotus position and let the images pass through him. As long as he didn't panic, he would be okay. He would just let the memories come and go.

The welter of memories increased, and he was just barely able to keep himself from feeling fear. Distantly, he knew that he had to become like a greedy dragon guarding his hoard of memories. If Donnelly wasn't careful, 'he' would be lost in here. But it was so hard. Fragmentary moments and images crowded in around him, images of Horizon as well as other places. He began to feel a remote, rising panic. What could he grab ahold of? How could he know what was him and what wasn't? There had to be something...

Another fragment of memory floated by, this one the image of a slender woman with a shaved head and a scarred back. She was lying on a mattress and facing the wall. Her back was covered with a dense quilt of tattoos. The woman rolled over, revealing a sneer on her beautiful face.

Jack. It was the first time he'd seen Jack. That one _had_ to be his. There was no one else like Jack. Donnelly seized on the memory and clung to it tightly, and as other bits of Jack-memories floated by he grabbed them as well. Donnelly held the growing memory-bundle of Jack close to him like a man with an armful of precious gems.

He remembered her sneer, her high and mocking laugh, her initial contempt at the very notion of friendship. But he also remembered her smile, the way her skin fizzed with biotic sparks as she lay in his arms and shook with her climax, her fierce joy at being able to hit back at a universe that had shown her nothing but cruelty.

He smiled, not sadly this time, as he remembered how Jack and Samara had become unusual friends. Samara...the thought of the ex-justicar also made him happy. Donnelly could remember the first time he'd met the asari as they had meditated in the observation lounge on board the _Normandy_.

But then, oddly, he could also remember the first time he'd seen Samara naked. He could remember every detail, as was as if he was seeing it anew. Samara stared at him with wanton lust and reached for him, crushing her mouth down onto his as Donnelly's arms went around her...

No, this wasn't right. This couldn't be his memory, it must be that of...

 _-KELLY!-_ he shouted inside his head, hoping somehow to be 'heard'. The engineer was gratified to hear a responding 'shout'.

 _-MARCUS! Is that you?-_

 _-Aye, lass! Think about Samara, it helps!-_

It was odd, he could now 'feel' Kelly's presence nearby. Her mind stayed near his, as if she'd grabbed ahold of his hand in a gale-force wind.

 _-Have you felt the others?-_ he asked. _-Jacob was with me when we got captured. What about Kasumi or Thane?-_

 _-I think Thane made it out,-_ she replied. _-I don't know about Kasumi. How the hell do we find them?-_

 _-The same way I found you, lass. Think about the people they love. Then look for a memory that can't be yours.-_

Adding to his growing bundle of 'Jack-memories', Donnelly tried to remember Garrus. There was a dim, boozy memory of that time on Tuchanka when he and the turian had gotten well and truly rat-arsed on krogan moonshine.

 _-Wanker,-_ thought Donnelly, and laughed again as he remembered the turian's delighted response.

He could feel Kelly's puzzlement. _-What?-_

 _-Sorry, lass. Just an amusing thought-_

Donnelly suddenly saw Garrus looming over him, as if the engineer was much shorter. At first Donnelly thought that Garrus was wearing a much more slim-fitting set of armor. Then he realized with a bit of embarrassment that the turian was actually naked. Donnelly was naked as well. Garrus reached out one clawed hand and combed slowly through Donnelly's long black hair while the other clawed hand reached down to gently caress him much lower...

 _-Kasumi! Is that you?-_

 _-Marcus? Oh, it is so good to hear your voice!-_

 _-Hold on to us and remember Garrus!-_ yelled Kelly. _-Keep all of your memories of him! We've got to find Jacob in here!-_

The three of them clung together as they whirled along the stream of thoughts and memories. All around them, underneath the welter of images, was a mournful wail of pain that seemed to come from thousands of voices.

 _-What is all of this?-_ asked Kasumi. _-Where did all of these other memories come from?-_

 _-From the kidnapped colonists, I'm guessing,-_ replied Kelly. _-They've been in here much longer. This forced memory-sharing has destroyed a lot of their individuality.-_

Donnelly gripped the other two's minds harder, and it was almost as if he could feel their small hands in his much larger mitts. _-We've got to keep together. We have to hang on. Shepard and Jack and the others...they'll come for us, they have to.-_

He saw second-hand as Kelly remembered the first time she'd met Miranda. The yeoman had been so intimidated and yet intrigued by the aloof Cerberus officer. Then Kelly remembered that horrible time in the hangar right after Jack's kidnapping, when she'd faced down Miranda. That perfect and sneering alabaster face was seen through the veil of Kelly's tears.

And then Miranda's face was suddenly back in sharp focus, the sneering now gone. Miranda's head was thrown back, her eyes closed tight and her mouth open in ecstasy. The three of them moved as one on top of her, exulting in the feel of thrusting into Miranda's warm and wonderful body as she writhed beneath them...

 _-Jacob!-_ yelled Kasumi.

The armorer's voice was distant and vague, as if he'd almost given up. _-Who's there? It can't be...Kasumi?-_

 _-No, you idiot, it's a Reaper!-_ replied the thief. _-Now take my hand and think of Miranda!-_

The four little minds bent together, seeking shelter amidst the noise and chaos while all around them sentient minds screamed with the pain of being torn apart.

* * *

Pat Simons glanced over as Joker settled himself into the main pilot's chair. "Your ship," she said.

"My ship," he replied, and placed his hands on the controls.

She began to unbuckle herself from the copilot's chair, only to feel Joker's hand on her shoulder.

"I need you here, Pat," he said.

"You do, sir?" Normally Pat was on one of the damage control teams during combat.

Joker nodded. "We need another set of eyes looking for threats. We have no idea what's on the other side of that relay. Plus you should be here in case, you know, I don't...make it. We need somebody to keep flying her."

Pat felt puzzlement. "But if that happens, then EDI-"

"EDI will have her hands full dealing with spoofing the IFF as well as any cyberattacks the Collectors throw at us." He gave her a smile, a warm smile. "You can do this, Pat."

She settled back in her chair and reattached her restraints. "Speaking candidly, sir, I wish I had your confidence."

"You're a damn good pilot," Joker replied. "If I...look, nothing's _gonna_ happen to me, okay? But in case it does, just remember to not fly like me."

"I'm sure I couldn't fly as well as you, sir."

"It's not a matter of skill. I'm talking about style." Joker shrugged. "I tend to try and 'finesse' things more than I should. I've got the skill to back it up, but I still dance around too much. You fly well, and your style is a lot more straightforward. If you wind up flying her, treat the _Normandy_ like an extension of your fist. Just go for 'em, don't get fancy."

Pat smiled a bit as she remembered her gang days from long ago. "Make it a street fight, not a dance."

"You got it," replied Joker.

Shepard came into the cockpit and stood behind Pat. He set his helmet aside and ran one gauntlet through his short brown hair. "Time to relay?" he asked.

"Seven minutes," said Pat. "Approach vector is locked in, Mr. Moreau has the helm."

"Thank you, Pat." She almost expected him to say something else, even something as simple as 'good luck'. But the Commander just tapped one boot on the deck and waited.

The red-orange glow of the Omega Four relay was growing larger as Miranda also came into the cockpit. She was armored up like Shepard, and had twin machine pistols strapped to her hips. The effect was almost like some kind of high-tech gunslinger. Pat glanced back and saw with some surprise that the usual Cerberus color scheme of Miranda's armor had been changed over into the red, black, and white that had been chosen after the _Normandy_ had broken off from Cerberus.

Shepard looked a little surprised as well. "When did you have time to do that?" he asked, gesturing at Miranda's newly colored armor.

"After I was stripped of my rank," she replied, then gave a ghost of a smile. "I had quite a bit of down time, after all. I thought it was wise to be ready in case I was returned to active duty."

"Hmm." Shepard looked back out the front window. "Well, I appreciate the foresight. I just wish the circumstances of you getting back into active duty were different."

Miranda's ghost of a smile disappeared. "Me too, sir."

The Omega Four relay swelled in the forward windows. The titanic hoops that contained its core began to spin faster as they approached.

"EDI, how is the IFF performing?" asked Shepard.

"I have successfully activated it. Standby. Receiving acknowledgement from the O-4. Analyzing back-and-forth traffic between the IFF and the relay. This is a very complex handshake. I can now see that there are multiple access levels in the mass relay network. Process is complete, we should be ready for transit."

"One minute to transit," added Pat. She felt like she'd taken a step off of a cliff. It was all out of her hands now. It was going to work or they would be dead in less than sixty seconds.

The _Normandy_ began its relay run.

The delta-winged craft swooped in a graceful arc towards the spinning hoops of the relay. The cockpit windows filled with a blazing orange light, and Pat suddenly felt the ship gripped and _thrown_ like a dart. The flickering blue of FTL flight sped by the windows, the patterns moving much faster than during a normal relay transit. And the trip was taking a lot longer as well. Pat rubbed her hands on her pants and nervously waited.

"Standby," said EDI. "We should be coming out in ten seconds. Brace for deceleration."

Shepard gripped the back of Pat's chair, and Miranda copied him as she grabbed Joker's seat.

A small bright patch of light appeared in the distance and in an eyeblink expanded to fill the windows. Pat's first impression was of harsh orange light, but her attention was suddenly occupied with the huge and tumbling chunk of metal that was right in front of them.

"SHIT!" Joker's yell was simultaneous with his yanking on the controls. The _Normandy_ pulled up and over the ragged piece of hull, only to have another mangled chunk of debris come barreling down on top of them. Joker slipped them down and around that one as well, and after a few more moments of hasty maneuvering he brought them up and out of the mass of debris that surrounded the exit relay.

They all stared in fascination at the scene. The exit relay was the same size as the O-4, and had the same red-orange glow in its mass effect core. Around it was a huge accretion disk of tumbling junk. What few bits Pat could identify might have been pieces of ship hulls.

"These must be all of the ships that tried to make it through the Omega Four relay," mused Miranda. "There could be debris here that is millions of years of years old."

Shepard nodded. "It looks like it. The exit relay must just chop them into bits if it doesn't get the proper IFF signal."

EDI spoke up. "Speaking of the IFF, I have deactivated it until we go back through, just to be safe."

"I like your optimism, EDI," said Joker with a smile.

"Thank you, Jeff. I am now scanning the area."

Pat looked farther off. The debris field eventually ended, and beyond that was appeared to be an earth-colored fog in the distance that stretched out in a much larger disk that mimicked the junk around the exit relay. And embedded in the middle of that fog, at the limit of her vision, was a small dark sphere surrounded by a bright orange aura. That sphere was utterly black, so black that it looked like a hole in creation. And Pat knew that was _exactly_ what it was.

"The core of the galaxy," she said in wonder. "And we're the first humans to see it."

She felt Shepard's hand rest on her shoulder. "Not bad for a kid from the streets, eh?"

Pat gave a chuckle. "Yeah, sir, I guess so."

Shepard activated his comm. "Tali, how are the systems holding up? Is the radiation as bad as we thought?"

"We're doing okay, Shepard," replied Tali's voice. "Most of the systems are handling the increased flux from outside, and Oriana and I are able to keep ahead of any failures."

The screen above Joker's chair was filled in with a wireframe tactical display of the area. The supermassive black hole's accretion disk was outlined, along with the debris field around the relay. EDI had overlaid a small blinking light onto the display. "I have detected an energy signature near the edge of the core's accretion disk," said the AI. "It is the only large power source that I can detect."

Shepard studied the display. "That has to be the Collector base. Take us in, Joker. Nice and easy. We don't want to attract attention just yet."

The _Normandy_ cruised over the drifting debris. Pat tore her eyes away from the view outside and set up her console to search for anything nearby moving under its own power. Her attention was drawn to several small dots on her display that weren't moving at the same speed as the other junk around them. "EDI, are you seeing these?" she asked as she highlighted the suspicious debris on her console.

"Yes, Pat, I have flagged them as possible hostiles," replied EDI. "But I have not detected any power signatures...nevermind, they have just activated their drive cores and are in pursuit. Three craft in total."

"Company, eh?" said Shepard. "Well, I suppose it was too much to ask that they leave their front door unguarded."

Joker twisted the ship about as red beams stabbed overhead. "Lasers," mused Miranda. "Just small craft, then. Our point defense system should be able to take them out."

"I was expecting something bigger," said Joker as he continued to evade their attacks. "I smell a big fat Collector rat."

"As do I, Jeff," said EDI.

"Joker, let them get closer," said Shepard. "Pat, you cue up the point defense and wipe 'em out if they get close enough. EDI, I want you to scan the debris field ahead of us and see if you can get an image match to any Collector ship. They might be using those small craft behind us to drive us towards an ambush."

"Wouldn't we have seen an ambusher's energy signature?" asked Miranda.

"Not if they're lying doggo with their drive shut off," replied the Commander.

Pat called up a rear view and was soon able to spot the three pursuit craft. They were indeed small, barely half the size of a shuttle. They seemed to consist of one big laser lens with a drive stuck on the back. She highlighted the enemy craft and let the point defense system's image recognition software get a good lock on them.

"Found the bastard," said EDI. Another blinking dot appeared on the tactical display in between them and the Collector base. "I believe that this is the Collector strike craft we encountered at Imorkan. They are operating on minimal power to avoid detection."

"Is there a chance our people could still be on board?" asked Shepard.

"Highly unlikely," replied the AI. "Their current power level does not allow for life support. The ship's current interior environment would not be survivable without extensive cybernetic modification such as that possessed by the Collectors. I believe our crew and the others kidnapped on Imorkan were delivered to the main base. They have had plenty of time to do so."

Shepard nodded. "Okay. Then plot a course around 'em. I want to be on that base as soon as possible. We have no idea what they're doing to our people. I don't want to waste time dancing around in a firefight."

The _Normandy_ began arcing around to approach the Base from a different vector. Pat saw the laser-ships alter course as well. "The small pursuit craft behind us are at about ten klicks," she said. "Five clicks until our point defense can engage them."

"Got it," said Joker.

"Alert," said EDI. "The Collector strike craft has powered up and is moving to intercept."

"Damn it," growled Shepard. "We can't waste time with this shit."

The new contact on the display started to move towards them rapidly.

"Pat," said Joker evenly, and she looked over at him. "Scan the debris field, and plot a path through it towards the base. You keep an eye on the long range and feed me the waypoint coordinates. I'll take care of the short range and avoid the junk."

Shepard and Miranda looked at each other. "It'll keep them from following us," said the Commander. "Do it, both of you."

Pat could now see the cylindrical form of the strike craft in the distance. The Collector vessel had various biomechanical spurs sticking off at right angles from its front, making it look like a huge and thorny seed-pod. She turned towards her display and began plotting. Her fingers shook slightly with nervous energy, but she was calm enough to see a decent path and set it up. "Course set. Sending you the entrance point now."

Joker dove the _Normandy_ back down towards the debris field as a brilliant white beam stabbed towards them. Pat clutched her console as the mass of drifting junk came closer and closer. It took all of her self-control not to squeeze her eyes shut as they plunged into the mess. Joker spun the ship around its long axis and began weaving through the junk in their path.

Pat checked the rear view again. "The three pursuit craft have followed." There was a bright flash off of one chunk of ancient hull. "And now they're down to two." A larger bulk became visible behind them. "I don't believe it," she said in fear and wonder. "The strike craft followed us in."

"I guess they really want us," replied Shepard.

"Coordinates?" asked Joker, his face a mask of concentration.

The wreckage whirled and flew past their windows as Pat called her plot back up. "Sending you the next two waypoints now. It's getting crowded in here." Something big banged off of the starboard side of their hull, shoving the ship to the right.

"Shields are holding," said EDI. "Good thing we upgraded."

The _Normandy_ ducked and wove like a boxer, chunks of ancient metal whizzing past her bright white hull. The pursuing craft were not quite as expertly piloted. Pat saw two more bright explosions bloom in the rear view. "All three of the laser craft are down. Just the strike ship left." As if to emphasize her words, a bright white beam came from behind them and vaporized a drifting blob of metal to their starboard.

Pat looked at the rear view again. The larger strike ship had multiple white flashes appear on its surface as it barreled through the debris. The Collectors were not using any fancy maneuvering, they were just bulling their way through. "There's some damage being done to them by the debris, but so far nothing major."

"We need to really discourage them," said Joker. "Replot it, Pat. With tighter clearance, or bigger bits of junk."

She felt a little bit of sweat coming down one temple as she complied. "Hang on." It was difficult to concentrate, both with the mental pressure as well as the physical maneuvering that the ship was undergoing. Then Pat had a brief memory of her childhood, a memory of her running through contested territory and back to safety while angry rival gangs chased her. She grinned in a feral way as she remembered how she taunted her pursuers.

"This sly little cheena's too quick for you, you bolshy bastards." Pat suddenly realized she'd spoken aloud.

"What?" asked Miranda in confusion, but Shepard just nodded with a smile.

Pat shook her head. "Never mind, ma'am. Joker, there's a really big chunk of a ship near the edge of the debris field. I think we can lure them into crashing onto it. Sending you the next waypoint."

The ship spun, narrowly avoiding another beam. They sped along, and then broke out into a relatively clear area. Ahead and to the side was a massive black cloud of shattered ships. Pat pointed at it. "In there. The other debris should block their view of the larger piece until it's too late."

The _Normandy_ sped towards the cloud. The Collector's strike ship burst out of the debris behind them like a charging bear and followed right at their heels.

Pat realized at the last moment that her plot through that cloud was not quite going to work. She had to change one of her waypoints. "Shit, I have to replot. Hang on."

The black cloud got closer very quickly as Joker gritted his teeth. "Dammit Pat, find me a hole!"

Right as he spoke, she sent him the new coordinates. "You're cute, Joker, but you know I don't swing that way."

"HA!" Joker let out a single bark of laughter as he drove the _Normandy_ forward into the cloud. Pat clung to her chair and watched their progress on her console. She tried not to look out the windows; it would surely freak her out.

"The strike ship is still following," said EDI. "It has sustained significant damage but does not appear to be breaking off pursuit." Pat took a quick look at the rear view. Sure enough, the rocky cylinder had multiple large gashes and scorch marks on its surface.

"You're almost there, Joker," said Pat. "Five more klicks."

"Got it." Joker now sounded relaxed, like he was taking a drive to the corner store. "Let's see how well these fuckers can take a corner."

It happened so fast that Pat didn't even have time to gasp. A huge wall of green metal appeared in front of them just as Joker was already pulling the ship up into a climb. The pursuing ship was nowhere near as nimble, and Pat could see small control thrusters flare on its surface in a doomed attempt to copy the _Normandy's_ maneuver.

It didn't even come close to making it. There was a huge pulse of light that filled the windows as the _Normandy_ sped up and away. Pat called up the rear view and saw nothing but a white-hot cloud of expanding vapor.

"Pursuit craft is definitely dead," said EDI with satisfaction. "We are about to clear the debris field."

The tumbling chunks of metal dwindled away, and they now flew through empty space. Joker highlighted the large power source on the tactical display and magnified it.

The screen showed a tube standing on its end and sporting a definite bulge in the middle. Pat looked at the scale at the side of the image and whistled. The structure was almost as big as a mass relay. Various spikes and protrusions hung off of the topmost end of the huge station, and lights twinkled over its entire surface.

"There it is," whispered Miranda. "The Collector base." Her jaw was clenched. "He's still in there, right?"

"He is, Miranda," said Shepard. "Just like we will be soon enough. Joker, see if you can find a place to land without drawing attention."

"Too late," replied the pilot. "It looks like they're sending out an old friend to greet us."

On the image of the Collector base, a cylindrical form slowly emerged from a huge port in the base's side. This was similar in shape to the Collector ship that they had just destroyed. But Pat could tell that this craft was much, much bigger.

Shepard's face was set like implacable death. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah, Commander," replied Joker. He sounded equally grim. "That's the Collectors' 'carrier' ship, for when they need to capture a lot of humans. That's the one that hit Horizon and the other human colonies. It's the ship that shot down the first _Normandy_ over Alchera."

EDI spoke up. "Analysis of this vessel indicates that it is similar in construction to the strike craft, although it is of course much bigger. We should be able to destroy it in a standard ship-to-ship fight, but it will require multiple hits from our main cannon."

"Damn it, _we do not have time_ ," grated Shepard. "It'll take too long to kill that thing. And we don't have any more debris to throw at it."

The Normandy speared towards the enemy base as the huge Collector vessel angled towards them and began to pick up speed.

* * *

"So, how did you and your friends meet?"

Kelly saw Marcus pause with his teacup halfway to his lips. "Well it's a little complicated, mum. I met them at work."

"Ohh, lovely!" The small gray-haired woman bustled around the table and set a tray of teacakes in its center. The table itself was clearly old, its synthetic surface showing permanent stains from ancient tea-spills. The kitchen around them was similarly old and stained but was otherwise utterly spotless.

The older woman sat at the table herself and gave them all a beaming smile. Somehow Kelly already knew her name; Brenda Donnelly. "I'm ever so proud of me Marcus." She reached over and patted his meaty shoulder. "He turned out to be such a canny one. After all of that nonsense he pulled as a wee lad, he goes and gets himself intae a posh school. And then intae the military, no less! I only wish his sainted da was here to see him. Anyway, it's good to know he's settling in well in his new career." She took a sip of her tea. "So what do ye all do fur the Alliance?"

Marcus had hit on the idea of trying to create a 'safe space' in the middle of the mind-hurricane they'd found themselves in. He'd supplied this quasi-dream out of his own memories. Kelly wasn't sure what would happen if they 'broke character'. Somehow she knew that would allow the raging storm outside to break back in and continue its attempt to tear their minds asunder.

She decided to go first. "I'm not a soldier, actually," she said brightly. "I work on counseling those who've seen combat."

"Oh, that must be very challenging!"

"It is," replied Kelly. "But I enjoy helping people."

"Well isn't that nice!" Brenda smiled. "You seem like a lovely and sensitive lass." She glared over at her son. "Why don't ye ask her oot, ya great lump? Her haid's even got the same color as ye." Brenda reached up and ruffled Marcus' short red hair.

He actually blushed. "Well, ma, we do have rules about dating co-workers."

"Ha! They can blow the rules oot their fanny-flaps," muttered Brenda. "I'm no' gettin' any younger, ye ken. I expect some grandchildren afore I go."

Kelly hid her smile behind her teacup.

Brenda turned to Kasumi. "And you, my dear?"

The thief daintily set down her own cup. She had her hood pushed back and the purple mark on her chin stood out in the fluorescent lighting overhead. "I work in acquisitions, ma'am. When the Alliance needs certain valuable items, I help get them."

"My word, that sounds fascinating. Does it involve a lot of travel?"

"On occasion," replied Kasumi with a smile. "And a little bit of excitement now and then."

Brenda sighed. "I always had a yen ta travel. Off planet, I mean. I did get to go and see my wee bairn get sworn intae the Alliance." She patted Donnelly's hand. "In Australia, no less!"

"Was that in Australia?" said Donnelly. "I thought it was in London..."

The room around them rumbled and shook, and then steadied as the engineer shook his head. "No, no, it was definitely Australia."

"Of course it was dear, don't contradict your mother." Brenda gave Jacob another beaming smile. "Now you look very big and impressive, my dear lad. What is your job?"

Jacob cleared his throat. "I, um, do security. For the Alliance. On things."

"Things, dear?"

The armorer looked a little panicked. "Ships, I mean. Ship things. Things on ships." Brenda reached over and patted his hand as well. The touch seemed to calm Jacob, and he smiled. "It's pretty boring most of the time, ma'am. A lot of standing around."

Kelly wondered how long they had actually been in here. The strain of keeping up the pretense was getting to her. It must be getting to all of them. At least she'd gotten to 'meet' Marcus' mother, if only second-hand. She hoped that Brenda was still alive, and that someday she could meet her in person. The little woman barely came up to the engineer's chest, and seeing the two of them together was simply adorable.

It could have been worse, much worse. Her own mother could have shown up, after all.

Damn it.

No, that was a mistake. Don't think about her. Because in this place, if you think about her, then...

"Fornicator!" hissed a voice from the doorway behind the yeoman.

Kelly's shoulders slumped. "No, please, not her. Not now."

Brenda stood with a stormy look on her features and glared at the intruder. "Who are ye? How didje get intae my hoose?" She gripped her teacup as if she was going to throw it, and the walls began to ripple.

"I'm so, so sorry," whimpered Kelly. She didn't have to turn her head; she knew that her tall and aristocratic-looking mother was striding into the kitchen with a sneer on her features. It was a look that Kelly had come to know all too well.

"No daughter of _mine_ will indulge in such filthy behavior! How dare you pollute the family name!"

"Ye'd better remove yourself right quick, ya radge boot," growled Brenda. "Or I'll gi' ye a wallop to remember!"

The table slid away from all of them, and Brenda's image fluttered and winked out. The only consolation was that her mother's image was also gone. The walls crumbled, and Kelly couldn't raise her eyes to meet those of her comrades. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I didn't mean to..."

The dream blew apart, and they were back in the whirlwind of memories. Kelly suddenly felt her grip on the others 'slip', and then she couldn't feel them any more. Desperately she tried to recover her contact with them. This time she thought about Jack.

The first time she'd talked to the biotic one-on-one had been right after the Haestrom mission. It had been a long, hostile affair where Jack had made it quite clear that she was only there under orders from Shepard.

"I'm not fixable, you fucking idiot," she'd said to Kelly.

Kelly didn't like having an 'office' to use for her role as ship's counselor. Instead, she preferred to find little private areas to meet her patients. This time they were in the shuttle down on the _Normandy's_ hangar deck. She looked at Jack sprawled along the plastic seats. The biotic still sported the cuts and bruising from the fight that had landed her in the infirmary.

"It's not about fixing, Jack," she said. "It's more about making peace."

The biotic turned her head and glared at her. "Peace? I will never make fucking peace, you twit. Not after...not after my childhood."

"I don't have any details on that part of your life, Jack," said Kelly smoothly. "I just have your criminal record. But if you care to confide in me, please be assured that anything we discuss will be between the two of us. I take doctor-patient confidentiality very seriously."

Jack snorted in derision. "Yeah, it'll be between you and me and every other fucking listening device on board this fucking ship." She slammed the wall above her with the palm of her hand. "You don't get to find out about where I come from. You don't want to know anyway. Nobody would."

Kelly didn't allow herself to feel hurt. This was all about gaining trust. "There must be somebody that you trust on board."

"Shepard. And that's only when we're in a, whaddyacall, combat situation. I know the Boss has my back then. But that damn cheerleader is always watching. She's the one really runnin' stuff on this ship, ya know."

"I _wouldn't_ know, actually. I only report to Shepard."

"Really? Well, color me shocked."

Kelly thought a bit more about Jack's recent rescue during the geth attack over Haestrom. "What about the Chief Engineer? You must trust him now, at least a little bit."

"Assface? I guess I do. He saved me, even after I...look, I don't wanna think about that. So why don't you just lay back and let me do all the work. You're still injured, after all."

The sudden change in Jack's tone confused Kelly, and then she realized she was flat on her back and staring at the medbay ceiling. She hurt all over, as if an entire gang had been hitting her with clubs. Her right leg was especially painful. But there was also a growing pleasurable sensation coming from her groin. Jack was now lying alongside her. The biotic had her tongue in Kellys' ear as she stroked...

 _-There you are, lass!-_ Donnelly's mind grabbed hold of hers again, and the memory blew apart into the maelstrom.

Kelly hung on to the others, but it was getting harder. Shepard had to be coming, she told herself. She couldn't allow herself to despair, even though she could feel her strength fading.


	46. Straight To The Top

The huge Collector carrier barreled towards them as Shepard thought through his options. If they just evaded the carrier, the giant ship would shoot the shit out of the _Normandy_ as it tried to land on the base. They couldn't leave such a formidable enemy at their rear, but he couldn't take the time to trade blows with it either.

"Twenty thousand klicks until intercept," said Pat.

Joker sighed. "I kinda wish old TIMmy had been able to score some disruptor torpedoes. They would be handy right about now."

"Yeah," replied Shepard. "Or it would be nice to have some way to deliver that PNA that Zaeed's got stashed in his quarters."

Miranda raised one eyebrow. "You knew about that, and you didn't say anything?"

Shepard shrugged. "Well, he was storing it properly. And he bought it with his own money. I figured I'd let him think he was putting one over on us." He gave her an amused look. "More to the point, if _you_ knew about it why didn't you tell _me_?"

"It was a...clerical issue, sir," she replied. "I didn't want to waste your time with it." Then she smiled. "But I agree, it would be useful right now. That's why I, heh, 'asked' Zaeed to cram all of his PNA into the damaged shuttle that Jacob and I arrived in. I was expecting to use it at the base, but we might be able to use it here."

The Commander smiled in return. "We can work with that, Ms. Lawson. That's some good thinking."

"Fifteen thousand klicks until intercept." Pat was calm, but her eyes were worried.

Miranda's face fell. "No, sorry, I _wasn't_ thinking. It will still take too long. We'll have to send both shuttles, fight our way into the carrier, park the damaged one next to their drive core, then get the strike team from that shuttle back to the other one and fly everybody back while they shoot at us the entire time." She shook her head. "It will take even longer than a ship-to-ship battle."

Shepard's smile just got wider. "Why would we need to use a strike team at all?"

Miranda's eyes met his, and her face froze. "Really? Do you think that would work?"

Joker waggled his fingers like a pianist getting ready to launch into a epic recital. "I'm up for it."

Pat looked at them all in confusion, then her eyes got wide as the dime dropped. "Holy _shit_. Oh, I mean, ten thousand klicks to intercept."

Shepard didn't give her time to panic. "Pat, you contact the ground team in the hangar. Coordinate the drop with them, and time it to hit the carrier's drive core. EDI, you run point defense and knock out anything that gets too close. Joker, you do your thing. Miranda, you and I just hang on." He took a breath. "XO Vakarian, do you have a firing solution for the Collector carrier?"

"I do, Commander," replied the gunnery officer over the comm. His voice was icy calm.

The _Normandy_ sideslipped a ravening energy beam from the carrier and continued its charge towards the enemy ship.

"Ground team reports ready, Commander," said Pat. She sounded as if she was still in disbelief that this was really happening.

Shepard crossed his arms. "Garrus, would you please _make us a hole_."

* * *

Zaeed placed the last brick of black PNA explosive on top of the stack that filled the interior of the second shuttle. "Ah, my girls." he said softly. "What a lovely music I woulda made with you all." He stuck a detonator into one brick and set its timer, then hopped out of the shuttle. He slid the door shut, and the movement made the craft rock a little bit. The shuttle had its lift field on, which made it float slightly above the deck.

"Yer still gonna make a lovely noise, I figure," he muttered to himself, and his pale mismatched eye gleamed as he smiled with evil intent. The mercenary jogged off to join the others at the shuttle's rear just as the _Normandy's_ main guns rumbled.

* * *

Twin streams of relativistic metal slammed into the rocky hull of the Collector carrier. No mere physical material could withstand such force, and the carrier's skin simply vaporized under the impact. The resulting explosion tore a huge hole in the front of the Collector ship. The _Normandy_ was charging close behind its own cannon fire, and it sped through the entrance wound that it had just made.

The interior of the carrier was hollow, and the rocky walls of that vast chamber were covered with a forest of human-sized transport pods. The pods rocked a little in the gale of wind created as the frigate sped through the carrier's interior. Small laser craft began flying out from the walls and firing at the intruder, only to be quickly picked off by responding laser fire from the _Normandy_ itself.

The sleek delta shape continued its charge towards the rear of the Collector carrier. There was a large 'cross' of sculpted black metal that spanned the rear of the alien craft. In the center of that cross was a cylindrical structure oriented along the carrier's main axis. And coming from within the open mouth of that structure was the blue glow of a massive drive core.

* * *

"Seven seconds," said Pat's amplified voice throughout the hangar. Zaeed set his shoulder at the rear of the shuttle and looked up at Grunt, who was similarly ready to push. The krogan grinned at him, showing an alarming number of teeth.

Zaeed nodded back. It was far too noisy to speak and be heard. The wind in the hangar was pretty fierce, what with the hangar door being open. Samara was on the other side of Grunt. Zaeed knew that the asari was really damn strong, even when she wasn't using biotics. And for this they needed sheer brute force.

"Five seconds," said Pat's voice.

"Four." Zaeed wondered if they'd be able to hear the explosion when it went off.

"Three." Actually, that would be a bad thing.

"Two." They didn't want to be anywhere _near_ this shuttle in the next few minutes.

"One." Zaeed planted his feet and grinned just as fiercely as Grunt.

"NOW!"

As one, the trio pushed on the shuttle and ran towards the main door. The craft slid easily on its lift field and rapidly picked up speed. The three stopped pushing just short of the door. The explosives-laden shuttle sailed out of the hangar.

"Hold on, folks!" yelled Pat. "This is gonna be rough!"

* * *

"Thanix cannon recharged," said Garrus over the comm.

Joker dodged the _Normandy_ around the 'cross' that held up the carrier's drive core cylinder. The back end of the Collector carrier was suddenly in view and also very, very close. Pat gripped her seat and tried not to cry out in panic.

"Fire!" Almost simultaneous with Shepard's shout, a huge burst of glowing vapor appeared in front of them and they flew right into it. The whole ship shook as it struck the edge of their exit hole, and Pat finally gave out a little 'eep' as her jangled nerves registered the hit.

The orange-hued sky was now again in front of them. "No damage reported," said EDI. "The new armor held just fine."

Pat blew out a shaky breath, and then called up the rear view and put it onto the tactical display overhead.

* * *

The UT-47 Kodiak shuttle is a marvel of modern engineering, capable of landing and taking off in any type of environment short of the depths of a gas giant. Its official nickname in the Alliance is 'The Combat Cockroach'. Unofficially (and more affectionately) the grunts refer to the Kodiak as the TLF; the Tough Little Fucker.

This particular TLF was living up to its name.

After dropping in a graceful arc from the fleeing _Normandy_ , the shuttle sailed into the mouth of the cylindrical structure that contained the carrier's drive core. The shuttle's blunt nose smashed into the floor of the cylinder and then the entire vehicle bounced back up into the air. Its rear end flipped over its nose in a somersault and then in turn the shuttle's rear smashed into the floor. The shuttle began to tumble like a pinwheel along the floor of the cylinder, smashing organic-looking equipment and crushing Collectors in its careening path towards the heart of the carrier. Chunks of gore and metal flung out on both sides of the cartwheeling vehicle until it gave one final bounce and then slid to rest on its side, just short of the pulsing blue glow of the core.

Collector soldiers cautiously swooped in on buzzing wings towards the dented and smoking wreck. One of them clicked in puzzlement as it hopped up and tugged on the edge of the shuttle's door. It trained its gun into the interior as the door slid open.

The vast intellect known to the _Normandy's_ crew as Harbinger looked through the drone's eyes. It saw a huge pile of black bricks along with a small metal box. The box had a little red light that was flashing faster and faster...

Harbinger had just enough time to realize what it was looking at...right before half a metric ton of ultra-high explosive went off right next to the carrier's drive core.

* * *

On the tactical screen, the Collector carrier shuddered as a long gout of flame shot from the _Normandy's_ exit hole. The huge ship lurched and then broke in half along its long axis as a huge pulse of blue light exploded out of its center.

"Oh, that's not good," said Miranda. "I think we were a little _too_ successful..."

"Hold on!" Shepard's shout came just before the wave of blue light slammed into the _Normandy_.

The frigate rocked like it had been slapped with a giant hand, and Shepard nearly lost his grip on Pat's chair.

"ALERT!" yelled EDI. "Multiple system failures! Circuit breakers overloaded! Loss of maneuvering power!" The view outside the cockpit spun as they tumbled away from the wrecked carrier.

In the middle of one of their tumbles, Shepard saw the wave of blue light also hit the Collector base ahead of them. The lights on the giant structure flickered and then went out.

"Report, Joker!" he snapped.

"I got nothin'!" cried the pilot. "We're heading for the base and not into empty space, so there's that at least. But this ain't gonna be a soft landing."

Shepard activated the ship-wide comm. "All hands, all hands, brace for impact. Repeat, brace for impact."

The base whirled closer as Shepard gripped Pat's chair. There was a low-pitched _clang_ as the ship knocked against a protruding tower, and the frigate slewed to the right. The hull of the base sped beneath them as they kept dropping.

"This is gonna _suck_ ," muttered EDI.

The _Normandy_ smacked into the side of the Collector base with a huge crunch and then bounced like a skipped stone. Shepard felt Miranda's body hit against his and they both tumbled to the deck, where they bounced around for a few more agonizing seconds. The ship itself finally stopped bouncing and then there was a long, drawn-out screech as they scraped along the rocky surface of the structure until finally, mercifully, everything stopped moving.

There was a moment of silence.

Shepard picked himself up and then helped Miranda to her feet. He looked out the windows and saw the rocky hull of the Collector base stretching beneath them. There were no lights visible anywhere in the base; the pulse that had taken them out must have had an equally bad effect on the Collectors.

Joker's hands trembled as he unlatched himself from the pilot's chair. "Well hey, it's like they say. Any landing you can walk away from is a good one, right?"

"Is anyone hurt?" asked Shepard. "Sound off." He rolled one of his shoulders. He'd taken a good bang on it when they had hit, but it didn't seem to be damaged.

"I'm okay," replied Pat in a small voice.

"As am I, Shepard," said Miranda in a much firmer voice.

"I got nothing busted Commander," said Joker in an almost manic tone. "For once."

"Owwww," moaned EDI.

* * *

Donnelly jerked a little. He was once more aware of his real surroundings, cramped though they were. The welter of foreign memories and thoughts running through his mind seemed to have stopped.

 _-Hey, can any of you hear me?-_ he 'called' out. There was no reply from any of his comrades. He seemed to be alone in his skull for the moment. The engineer felt a little relief from the strain of literally having to keep himself together.

He tried to open his eyes and found that he could see, just a little bit. Outside of his tube was still a blur, but he could now see much more movement. The glowing eyes of the Collectors darted back and forth across his field of view, much more quickly than before. It reminded him of the insectoid scurrying that happens after kicking open an anthill.

And then he realized what had happened.

Shepard had happened. The _Normandy_ had come to reclaim her own.

Donnelly felt a little life returning to his hands. He slowly brought them up towards the translucent door of the tube that held him. If he could get at least a little of his strength back, he just might be able to get out of here.

* * *

"Pretty much all of the ship's fusible links blew," said Tali. She called up the _Normandy's_ schematics on the display above the conference table. Many of the interior sections of the ship were red and flashing. "That pulse from the carrier's destruction, on top of the high radiation environment, was too much for the control circuitry. We have basic life support and EDI, and right now that's it."

"How soon until we can be back up and running?" asked Shepard. The other members of the ground team were also crowded into the conference room, along with Mordin and Oriana. The lighting was harsh; only emergency lights were operational at the moment, and the group crowded around the table cast expressionistic shadows on the walls as they held their council.

Oriana spoke up. "It will take at least two hours. We're resetting the breakers and replacing fuses, that'll take a little over one hour. Then we have to power it all back up in sections without blowing everything again."

The Commander nodded. "Okay. EDI, how long do you estimate we have before the Collectors attack us?"

"I do not have a precise estimate," replied the AI. "But I would say at least four hours. In a way, the pulse that hurt us also helped us. The base's systems were just as damaged as ours, and will also take longer to repair due to the sheer size of the structure. The Collectors will not be searching the station's exterior for us, as they will be too busy repairing the base. The best they could do will be to launch a probing cyberattack in the next hour or so to determine our location. I should be able to easily handle such an attack."

"Good," said Shepard. "That gives us a chance to properly plan our rescue attempt. EDI, please bring up your scans of the base."

The _Normandy_ schematic was replaced with a wireframe map of the Collector structure. A small room near the top of the structure was highlighted. From the scale, Tali realized that 'small' control room could easily hold the _Normandy_ ten times over.

EDI spoke again. "You should be able to overload their systems and destroy the base if you reach the main control center here at the top."

Garrus peered closer at the hologram. "Let's see, so if we're here on the outside...that means going through the heart of the station, past this massive energy signature below the control room."

"That's the central chamber," said Shepard. "It's the largest single open space in the base. The Collectors are probably holding our crew and the colonists in there. It certainly has the room to house all of the captives they've taken."

"It looks like there are two main routes," said Zaeed. "We should send a team up each path. That'll keep the Collectors off-balance. We can then regroup in the central chamber."

Miranda shook her head and pointed into the hologram. "No good. There's this antechamber below the big main chamber. That's where the two paths meet. But the paths are blocked by these big blast doors into the antechamber. The only way to get them open is to get someone on the other side."

"So we use the, whaddyacall, access tunnels instead," said Jack. "Just like I'm not allowed to."

Miranda gestured in the middle of the hologram, and the map zoomed in. She traced a finger along a small tunnel that was now visible. "Good thinking, Jack. There's a ventilation shaft here that goes right into the antechamber." She tapped a finger on her chin. "The problem is, it's only big enough for us to go single file. We can't send the whole team through there. If we get discovered, we'd be massacred in such tight quarters. Plus I don't know if we could fit Grunt through there."

"I could always hold my breath," said Grunt. "I can hold my breath for a very long time. Krogans have redundant lung capacity."

Now Jack reached into the map and zoomed the view back out. "We don't all need to go, cheerleader. If we send the teams down each path like Zaeed said, they can keep the Collectors busy while somebody small and wriggly goes through the ventilation shaft." She leaned back. "Somebody like me, for example. I volunteer. And by 'volunteer', I mean I'm fucking going whether you cunts want me to or not."

Legion now spoke up. "Proposed route has multiple locks requiring bypassing. Significant technical skill required to proceed through ventilation shaft. Not to mention such an effort will be very hazardous."

Jack gave the geth a glare. "Right now, I don't give one single shit about danger." She held up a fist and it became sheathed in a blue aura. "And there's more than one way through a lock, Scrappy."

The synthetic's hood-flaps pivoted in its version of a shrug. "Did not mean to question ability of Human-Biotic-Jack. But if force used to bypass locks, that breach will spread alarm. Collectors will probably flood the ventilation shaft with superheated plasma."

"Oh," said Jack. "Shit." She dropped her fist.

Legion tapped its chest, right next to the gaping hole in its torso. "This platform is most suited for proposed infiltration. Can bypass locks as well as open antechamber doors at far end."

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't like the idea of just one person going through there. If anything happens to you, Legion, you'll be dead and then we'll be dead right after that."

Tali looked again at the map. "Then I should go as well. I have similar expertise to Legion, and I'm good in tight spaces."

"That is logical, Creator-Tali'Zorah," said Legion. It nodded its hood towards Tali.

"Are you sure, Tali?" asked Shepard. "What about the repairs to the _Normandy_?"

Tali knew that Shepard was also worried about putting her in harm's way, even though he would never admit it out loud.

"I can oversee that," said Oriana. "We've already got the rest of the crew working on fuse replacement." She gave a little smile. "And besides, you're going to get Marcus back soon anyway, right?"

"Fuckin' A-Right, Ennesby," said Jack with a grin.

Mordin spoke up. "Would prefer to accompany one of the teams. Highly likely that crew and colonists will be injured and in need of immediate medical attention."

"I agree," said Shepard. "Mordin, stick with Jack. Jack, your main job is to watch Mordin's ass."

The salarian drew himself up pridefully. "Not entirely helpless, Shepard. Was in STG for many years, have seen combat. Have killed with many methods. Gunfire, knives, drugs, tech attacks, once with farming equipment."

Jack gave Mordin a sidelong glance. "Okay, Doc, then how about we watch each other's ass?"

Mordin smiled and nodded.

Tali crossed her arms and looked at Shepard. "So are we settled?" she asked.

He gave her a sheepish little smile. "We are, if you're okay with it." Then he straightened up. "I guess that's our plan. Tali and Legion get through the ventilation shaft while the A and B teams distract the Collectors along each path. Then we regroup in the antechamber, head up to the main chamber, rescue everyone, blow the place up. Should be a piece of cake, right?"

"And not get blown up in the process," added Miranda. "No doomed heroics, remember?"

* * *

The Collector base's skin was rocky but also clearly 'made', almost like concrete. It crunched under Jack's boots as she jumped down and out of the _Normandy_. She looked around at the other A-team members. Shepard stood like an armored wall, the 'N7' on his breast shining in the harsh orange glow that surrounded them. He held his rifle and had his particle beam weapon slung over his back. Garrus was making a few last-minute checks on his sniper rifle. Grunt looked like a two-legged tank in his armor, and held the crude brick of his OMFG at the ready. The krogan now had two big-ass knives, one in each boot. Mordin stood next to Jack in a lightly-armored pressure suit. The salarian had a machine pistol but nothing else. Jack had offered him a spare shotgun of hers, but Mordin had just smiled, shook his head, and tapped his omni-tool as if to indicate that he had all he needed.

Over to her right, the B-team was making its way towards their own entrance. Jack shook her head a little as she regarded Miranda's departing armored form. There was a time, not too long ago, when she would have quite cheerfully pulled out the Cerberus officer's spine and then laughed in her dead face.

But now? Now she could appreciate that Miranda had been just as misled as the other Cerberus people on board the _Normandy_. She'd put her own ass on the line to help them. And now the cheerleader's boy-toy was buried somewhere deep in this alien fort, along with Jack's own Honey-Boo. Jack made a promise to herself right then and there. If Marcus got out safe, then that would be an end of it. She wouldn't seek any retribution against Miranda...or against Cerberus itself, for that matter. The notion was actually kind of liberating, now that she thought about it.

Jack and the rest of the A-team approached the door that marked the beginning of their own path into the base. The biotic made another promise to herself. Namely, that at the end of this mission the fucking base would be a smoldering pile of scrap.

She drew her shotgun and crouched close to Shepard's right flank as the Commander reached the door. Mordin was on her right and behind her. Grunt protected Shepard's left, and Garrus stayed behind them all to provide long-distance cover.

"Ready here, Shepard," said Zaeed over the comm.

"Infiltration team ready," added the Buckethead.

"Hit it," replied the Commander.

The door opened and the A-team surged forward. Jack saw an organic-looking tunnel stretching into the distance. They jogged into the corridor, which sloped down and into the alien structure. Mordin easily kept the pace with her and the rest of the team, which made her feel better about having to babysit the Doc. His protests aside, he hadn't been in the middle of combat as much as the rest of them. There was no way he was going to be able to be effective in combat...

Her musings were cut short by a familiar buzzing from ahead. They dove for cover as multiple Collectors swarmed into the larger space in front of them. By now the team acted as a single unit, and the incoming enemy was quickly whittled down to one enemy.

The remaining Collector burst into flame, and a familiar and ancient voice reverberated through the corridor. "DIRECT INTERVENTION IS NECESSARY."

"Aw, shit," muttered Jack. "Not this fuckwit again."

Mordin peered curiously around the corner at Harbinger's manifestation, only for Jack to roughly jerk him back as a plasma bolt sailed past. "Watch it, dude. Harby is a tough motherfucker."

"Understood. Hmm. Flame. Let's see if this is effective..." Mordin tapped a few controls into his omni-tool and then quick as a snake leaned out again and fired something blue and glowing at Harbinger. There was a sudden choked-off scream. Jack, in spite of her own warning, leaned out as well.

The formerly flaming form was now a statue encased in ice. Jack didn't say a word, just blinked in astonishment.

Garrus gave the frozen Collector a concussive shot that blew it into icy splinters.

"Bose-Einstein condensate," said Mordin happily. "Instant supercooling."

Jack looked over at Shepard. "And you wanted me to watch _his_ ass?"

They moved forward. The corridor expanded out into a large chamber where the floor seemed to be made up of large hexagonal tiles. The tiles were at different elevations, forcing them to jump down and then vault up as they progressed deeper into the base.

Another squad of Collectors popped up when they were midway through the chamber. Jack's shockwave scattered some of them, and as she made ready to throw one at the others a bright red ball flew from behind her and towards those still standing. The ball actually swerved and homed in on one of the Collectors still in cover. Upon impact, the Collector gave a clacking scream and was covered in flame.

"Ah, wonderful!" exclaimed Mordin. "Collectors are flammable! Or inflammable! Can't remember which...doesn't matter!" The flaming Collector continued to writhe in pain before Jack hit it with a shotgun blast.

Another of the Collectors was abruptly wreathed in whiter flame. "SHEPARD-" it began, before the Commander switched on his super-speed and pulverized the transformed alien with a long rolling burst of fire before Harbinger could say any more. The other Collectors were quickly dispatched.

They reached the far end of the chamber. Jack tapped Shepard on the shoulder. "Seriously, Boss, why haven't we taken the Doc with us before?"

"Happier in lab," said Mordin before Shepard could reply. "Though must confess, being in real combat again is quite exhilarating."

"It's gettin' ya horny, eh Doc?" said Jack, and waggled her eyebrows at him. "It gets me in the mood too."

The salarian shook his head inside his bubble helmet. "No, simple adrenaline. Salarian reproduction different. Very little sex drive. Are you proposing a sexual liaison?"

Jack was caught completely flat-footed by Mordin's matter-of-fact tone. "I, er, what?"

"No offense taken, happens all the time," continued Mordin cheerfully. "Regard you as valued comrade, not to mention very interesting person. If ever intended to try Human, would try you. But not anytime soon."

"I, um, okay..."

Shepard chuckled. "As much as I like to see Jack get a taste of her own medicine, we should keep moving."

* * *

Tali had debated if she should go first, or if Legion should lead the way. The geth had left it up to her. She'd finally decided to go first. At least she didn't have to worry about the synthetic ogling her ass. She just had to worry if Legion was going to _shoot_ her in the ass. In spite of their recent conversation, she still harbored some deep-seated suspicions about the geth's true motives. Tali kept wondering if Legion was just waiting for the opportune moment to dish out some payback for what her father had done.

She wriggled further along the narrow tunnel. Legion's eye-lamp shone from behind her, creating shadow-puppet images on the gray walls of the shaft in front of her. Tali's comm crackled with the noise of the two strike teams as the pair of infiltrators pushed further into the alien base. The two of them were keeping radio silence; there was no point in unnecessarily alerting the Collectors as to what was really going on.

"Dammit, Jack, keep in cover!" snapped Shepard's voice.

"Relax, Boss...there, no problemo. Hey Doc, you wanna light that other guy up?"

"With pleasure!"

The other team seemed to be similarly engaged. Zaeed's rasp was unmistakable. "Listen up, mates. Shepard tells me that Harby fella is vulnerable for the second or so it takes for 'im to form. Hit 'im hard before then."

"Got it," said Miranda's icy voice. "Contact right!"

"I see them," rumbled Thane. There was the muffled sound of multiple shots. "Targets down," said the drell.

"Damn me, Thane," said Zaeed. "I'm glad I never had to tangle with ya."

Tali came to an elbow in the shaft. She glanced below her and saw that Legion was right on her heels. "Are you doing okay?"

"This platform is well, Creator-Tali'Zorah."

She pushed herself up over the elbow and kept wriggling forward. Quarians are by nature and by upbringing immune to claustrophobia. In fact, there is a competition among the younger quarians in the Migrant Fleet to see who can maneuver the fastest through a particularly long and narrow path inside one of the main Fleet liveships, the _Rayya_. Prior to her departure on her Pilgrimage, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya had been the undisputed Fleet-wide champion of that competition. She smiled a little bit behind her visor as she thought about what Jack would have made of this path. In spite of the biotic's bluster, Tali knew that Jack would have found the tiny tunnel intolerable.

There was a mottled orange wall that blocked the way ahead. "Another valve," said Tali. "Hang on, Legion. Let me get this." She scanned the wall with her omni-tool and found the valve's corresponding logic junction. Tali's fingers flew almost without her thinking as she set up a bypass that would open the valve without alerting any prying eyes to the fact.

The valve obediently slid aside, and they moved on.

"It is me, or is it getting warmer in here?" asked Tali.

"Correct," replied Legion. "Temperature now five degrees above that observed previously. Suspect we are near either power generator or life support system."

"I hope it doesn't get too hot." Her suit could keep her cool in most normal environments, but if the whole shaft was getting warmer then there really wasn't anywhere for her suit to dump the excess heat.

The next section of shaft had a different look to it, a dirty white rather than gray. She hesitated a little and then moved forward. There was only the barest warning creak before the shaft wall below her simply tore open. Tali pitched out into open space. She made a desperate grab for the hole's edge, but her fingers slipped off of the edge as she continued to fall.

* * *

"WE ARE THE HARBINGER OF-"

Samara's glowing-blue fist smashed right through Harbinger's head before the creature could finish manifesting. The flaming body dispersed into glowing embers.

"KILL ONE, AND ONE HUNDRED SHALL TAKE ITS PLACE," said Harbinger's voice as the corpse dissipated.

"Then bring them, you bastard!" yelled the asari, and thrust her glowing fists into the air. "Just bring them! BRING THEM ALL TO ME!" Her scream echoed through the chamber.

Zaeed was now very, very glad he'd gone with the flow and given up that explosive. When it came to pissed-off ex-justicars, there was a _good_ side and a _bad_ side. Right now he was on the good side, namely _behind_ her. In front of her was most certainly the _bad_ side at the moment.

A Collector drone made a run at Samara, and Zaeed took its head off almost casually with a single rifle shot. "Fall back and regroup, Samara," he said through the comm. In spite of his inner musings, his voice was all business. "Good job, by the way."

"I thank you." Samara's face had lost its manic look, and she seemed to be back in control.

The next chamber was even bigger. The hexagonal floor-tiles at different heights made it a real pain in the arse to move through, although the resulting walls did give some cover. It was quiet. The standard cliche, Zaeed thought. Make the intruders drop their guard before dumping everything on them.

"Hang on," he said. "Thane, you got any contacts in sight?" The drell was nowhere to be seen; ordinarily, it would have irritated Zaeed to not know the precise location of one of his team. However, through training as well as combat he'd learned to simply let Thane do his thing. The assassin always seemed to be in the right place when needed.

"None so far," came the rumbling response. "I have oversight of the chamber. You may proceed."

The three others in B-team spread out and cautiously picked their way through the uneven terrain. One side of the chamber opened out into a huge cavernous space that seemed to stretch for kilometers below them. Zaeed kept an eye on that side of the chamber. He remembered the vids he'd seen of the Mnemosyne mission, where the husks had been hiding just under the lip of the walkways.

Miranda was drifting a little too close to that edge for his comfort. "Miranda, come my way a bit," he said. "I'm worried that there might be-"

Harbinger's avatar exploded up from behind one of the walls in the center of the chamber, and this time it didn't waste time in any pronouncements. It just started firing. Zaeed just barely had time to throw himself to the side before a bolt of plasma flew by him. "Dammit! Focus fire on-"

More Collectors swooped in from over the lip of the chasm beyond, near Samara's location.

Harbinger's head rocked with a shot from Thane, but by now the being was fully formed and the attack didn't seem to do much damage.

Zaeed rolled himself down behind a wall and took stock of the situation. Samara was caught in the middle of the group of Collectors. Miranda was down on one knee for improved stability and was firing her pistol at the Collectors attacking the asari.

Zaeed didn't dare follow Miranda's example. Samara was moving around fast enough that he was afraid he'd hit the asari. Instead, he shifted his attention back to Harbinger and gave the glowing bastard a concussive shot. The creature jerked but otherwise showed no pain, and it began throwing plasma bolts towards Zaeed with a will.

He ducked back into cover. "That's right, asshole, keep shooting at the obvious target..." There was a _crack_ from Thane's rifle.

"WE ARE YOUR EVOLUTIONARY DESTINY," said Harbinger. "YOU DO NOT YET COMPREHEND YOUR PLACE IN THINGS-"

Zaeed popped his head up again and gave Harby another really sweet concussive shot in the chest. It coincided with another sniper shot from Thane, and now the creature doubled over. It was clearly hurt. Zaeed bared his teeth in a fierce grin. "Thane, take care of that talky bastard if you please."

"Of course." Thane's rifle gave another _crack_ that blew the transformed Collector into ashes.

The mercenary switched his attention back to Samara. She had just done some kind of biotic pull to bring one of her assailants into melee range, and was in the middle of stomping the thing's head into paste against the floor. The only other Collector standing then went down with a shot from Miranda.

And then the ululating moans of husks filled the chamber. They pulled themselves up over the edge of the floor, right next to the former Cerberus officer. It was a huge swarm, at least twenty of them. And Miranda was trapped right in the middle.


	47. House Where Nobody Lives

While Tali was just fine with being in tight enclosed spaces, she now realized that she really hated yawning chasms. Especially when they were right below her. Tali's heart pounded as she dangled over a space that must have been kilometers deep. There were no lights in the black expanse below her; the base was still recovering from the pulse of the carrier's drive core explosion. But she wasn't falling, not yet. Somehow her foot had caught in the edge of the hole. Very carefully, Tali twisted her head up and looked towards her feet.

Her foot wasn't caught on the edge. Legion had his arm out of the hole and had a firm grasp on her boot. The geth's single eye-lamp glared at her while she hung over nothingness. In that moment, Tali realized that Legion could drop her. It could let her fall into that abyss below her, and then make up some story for Shepard at the end of it all.

Tali's panic became a full-fledged freakout. That was exactly what was going to happen. Legion was going to drop her and let her die as revenge for her father's horrible experiments. The synthetic would tell the Commander that the Collectors had killed her. Shepard would mourn her, and never realize that she'd been murdered...

Legion's hood tilted. "Creator-Tali'Zorah, please get ready to grip the edge of the hole," it said. Then it gently swung her back. Tali could feel that its hold on her ankle never faltered. Legion swung her back up and she forgot her fears as her entire world narrowed to the view of the hole's edge. She saw her hands reach up and out, then grip that edge. It was almost as if she was seeing somebody else do the grab. But her gloves found good purchase, and she pulled herself up and into the far side of the conduit.

Tali didn't trust her voice just yet, so she nodded at Legion to let it know she was okay. The geth obligingly let go of her foot. The quarian wedged herself into the tube on the far side of the hole. She waited a bit for her heart rate to get back to normal. "So I guess we have to watch out for the white sections," she finally said.

"Agreed," said Legion. Tali held out a hand and helped the geth work its way over the hole.

"Do you wish this platform to lead?" it asked her.

She knew sometime in the future she would have a lovely little nervous breakdown about how close to death she'd just come. But Tali was now on a mission, and so she shook her head. "I'm okay to keep in front for now. Besides, if the same thing happens to you I might not be able to catch you. You're faster than me."

* * *

Zaeed's rifle took off the head of one of the attacking husks. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as he saw the other humanoid forms swarm around Miranda. Samara was charging at the group as well, but she also seemed to be moving far too slow. There were too many of them, and now they were too close to her for Zaeed or even Thane to shoot at. It was too big of a risk of hitting Miranda, even though she was in danger.

The big mercenary vaulted himself up onto one of the hexagonal floor tiles and ran forwards. Miranda shot two husks quick as lightning, but four more rose to take their place. A biotic throw from her shoved a few back, but there were just too many around her. She had nowhere to go. She was fast, but she was also doomed unless the other team members could get there in time. In spite of her abilities, she was just one human...

Faster than he could see, Miranda tore the other gun from her hip and began firing both guns in two different directions. She _danced_ around the moaning abominations as they flailed and swung at her. With every move of hers she fired again, both guns at once, each shot hitting a different target. Zaeed wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it for himself.

Miranda gestured upward with one gun, and one of the husks rose in the air surrounded by a blue glow. The creature then slammed back down into the ground, crushing another of its brethren below it and scattering the others around it. She charged into the resulting gap, firing both pistols in front of her and killing any that were in in her path before finally rolling clear of the mass of husks.

"Light 'em up, folks!" yelled Zaeed. His rifle chattered as he swept his muzzle across the horde. Samara grabbed one of them in long-range biotic field and then used it like a bowling ball to scatter those around it. Miranda added her fire as well, along with the repeated _crack_ of Thane's sniping.

The horde seemed to melt away, glowing blue forms slumping to the ground as the concentrated attack tore into them. Zaeed had a moment of fearsome joy. This was his life, this was everything he ever was or ever wanted to be.

And still more forms pulled themselves up over the edge. These new husks glowed red.

"Careful!" called Miranda. "The red ones explode!"

Zaeed switched to concussive shot and began blowing them clear off the edge of the platform. He laughed, feeling almost like he was in a shooting gallery. Samara began following his example and using biotic pushes to drive them back over the edge.

After a very short and one-sided battle, it was all quiet again.

"Damn me, Miranda," said Zaeed. "I've seen guys tryin' to use two guns at once, but they usually wind up shootin' their own dick off. I never thought I'd see it really done."

Miranda stood, breathing just a little more heavily than usual. "I was made to be perfect, Zaeed," she replied, then gave a small smile. "And at least in _some_ ways I am."

* * *

Tali opened the next valve and immediately began to sweat. "Keelah," she muttered. "How are you handling the heat, Legion?"

"This platform's internal cooling mechanisms are losing effectiveness," admitted the geth. "We are close to the antechamber, suggest we sacrifice stealth for speed."

She could feel the sweat pooling against her knees as she began worming forward more quickly. "I second that motion," she said. "Based on how the valves are spaced, we shouldn't have anything between us and the outlet anyway...oh, I just _had_ to open my mouth, didn't I?"

Another mottled wall stretched across the ventilation shaft. Tali shook her head and felt a little trickle of sweat get into one of her eyes as she opened her omni-tool and began scanning. She blinked in a particular pattern, and an ultrafine manipulator inside her visor reached down and wiped the sweat away from her eyes.

She regarded the result of her scan with puzzlement. "There's no control mechanism around here. Maybe I messed up. Legion, can you do a scan?"

"Have already done so. Appears this valve controlled remotely. Only linkage appears to go towards path currently being cleared by _Normandy_ Alpha-Team."

Tali knew they had to keep moving, or they would both cook. Radio silence had to go by the wayside. She opened her comm. "John? Can you hear me?"

* * *

"Look for a control panel of some sort!" yelled Shepard from behind him. The Commander sounded a little frantic, and Garrus couldn't blame him. Tali's voice hadn't sounded very steady; the heat must be starting to get to her. The turian risked a peep around the corner and scanned the smaller room in front of them. It was narrow, and both sides of the room were lined with the orange and green holographic consoles used by the Collectors.

"There's lots of controls in the next room, John," he said. "But it's really tight quarters. I hope we don't have to do any shooting in there."

"Understood." Shepard's voice was back to icy calm again, but Garrus knew his friend well enough to be able to hear the little edge in it that indicated his inner worry. "Garrus, do you see any doors around the entrance?"

He looked around the edge of the square hole into the next room. It was all smooth, organic-looking material that reminded Garrus of a cast resin. "Nothing visible, Commander."

"Okay, there's no doors to close and separate us. So Garrus holds position outside the room and watches our ass. Grunt, switch to fists. Jack, no shotgun while we're in there. Mordin, you're with Garrus."

The other three flowed around Garrus and into the control room, while Mordin took up position behind Garrus. Jack and Grunt faced forward while Shepard scanned the controls intently. He got back on his comm. "Tali, can you tell me what I should look for?"

"It should be a green hexagon," said Tali's strained voice. "I can't believe how hot it's getting in here. Legion, can you trace the control linkage and give Shepard a better idea of where to look?"

"Affirmative. Shepard-Commander, please look on upper right panel."

Shepard scanned the indicated console, and Garrus could tell he was getting seriously freaked out. "I don't see it!"

"Should be green six-sided button, as Creator-Tali'Zorah said. Temperature now reaching dangerous levels."

"Not. Helping," grated Shepard. "Really, guys, I can't see it."

"Oh, no," said Legion.

"What?! What happened? Tali?" Shepard looked like he was about to go punching through the walls to get to the ventilation shaft.

"I'm here, John," said Tali faintly.

"Apologies," replied the geth. "Forgot orientation of Shepard-Comamnder to this platform. Should be on upper console to your _left_ , which is this platform's right."

Shepard spun. "Got it!" He all but put his fist through the button.

"Obstruction removed," replied Legion. "We are progressing. I am taking lead, Creator-Tali'Zorah,"

"Fine by me." The quarian sounded almost unconscious.

Garrus heard a familiar buzz of wings from behind them. "We've got company coming up behind us," he said aloud, turned, and readied his rifle. The first Collector around the corner got one of Mordin's fireballs in its face, and its pained flailing disorganized the others enough for Garrus to pick off a couple more of them before the Collectors could return fire.

A round went past his head and _pinged_ off of the doorway behind him. And the Collectors just kept coming.

"We've got a _lot_ of company," added the turian.

"Fall back," said Shepard. "we're almost at the blast doors anyway."

* * *

Donnelly's strength wasn't returning as much as he'd hoped. His arms still felt limp and lifeless. He could push feebly at the translucent material in front of him, but nowhere near hard enough to do any good. His good leg felt equally weak.

Wait a minute. What about his other leg? He glanced down and saw that the Collectors had stripped him naked before shoving him into his little tubular cell. However, for whatever reason they had left his prosthetic in place. On further reflection, he supposed that made sense. The artificial limb was grafted into his remaining leg bone, after all. It would have been a bother to remove, and it wasn't like he could kick the Collectors to death anyway.

He flexed the leg and saw it move much more forcefully than its flesh-and-blood counterpart. Whatever was affecting him was probably just weakening his muscles, not his nervous system.

So right now he had just one strong leg, his brain, and nothing else. Donnelly broke it down into an engineering exercise and visualized options in his head. If he braced himself against the back wall of the tube, placed his his bent artificial leg against the tube, and then straightened out the prosthetic...yes, that might work. He should be able to apply most of the motorized leg's force to the tube. Maybe even enough to open it.

It was worth a shot. He looked outside, and as before he couldn't see a damn thing. Oh well, if there _were_ any Collectors outside he'd just have to deal with it once he got out. Donnelly drifted back against the rear of the tube and placed his synthetic foot against the front.

* * *

Tali dimly felt Legion lower her gently out of the ventilation shaft. The contact with the floor outside and the sudden coolness snapped her awake. "Oh. Did I pass out?"

"Almost," replied Legion. "Not difficult to drag you, we had almost reached the room anyway."

"Not my most graceful entrance," she muttered. "But at least we made it." Tali stood and took stock of their surroundings. The antechamber was circular and about thirty meters across, with one large closed set of doors on the wall opposite them. To the right and left were two huge slablike doors. Each door was so tightly closed that she couldn't even see the seam where their halves met.

She activated her comm again. "A and B teams, we are in the antechamber. We will unlock the doors and wait for your signal to open them." She jogged towards the console for one of the massive blast doors while Legion moved silently towards the other.

"The A team is almost there, Tali," said Shepard. He sounded a little out of breath, as if he was running.

"Ditto fer us," growled Zaeed.

Her fingers danced over the console, calling up the necessary access controls for the door. She paused before pressing the last control, waiting for Shepard's call.

"Now, Tali!"

She touched the panel and readied her shotgun as a seam appeared in the huge door. Its two halves slid apart with a rumble. A-team dashed through the opening gap, pouring fire back through the gap as they entered. Mordin was first, followed closely by Garrus and Shepard. Grunt and Jack were the last. The biotic was throwing shockwaves with abandon behind her, her face stretched in a gleeful grin. Grunt had a similarly pleased expression, and the smaller room echoed with the _BOOM_ of his OMFG.

She heard a similar commotion behind her, and knew that the B-team had arrived as well through the other blast door.

As soon as the last of the A-team was through, Tali touched the control again and the door slammed shut, again appearing like a seamless wall. She scrambled the door's code and then put a shotgun round into the control console for good measure.

"Now they'll have to burn through the door," she said with satisfaction. Across the room from them, Legion was smashing his console apart as well.

Shepard gripped her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Tali patted his hand. "I'm fine, although I'm smelling pretty funky in here from all of my sweating. I'll need to get properly clean after the mission. I may need some help." She gave him a wink, and he gave a happy smile in response.

Shepard moved off and made the rounds to check on the others on the ground team. Tali sat down next to the wall and drank some water from a straw attached to her suit's internal canteen.

Jack sat next to her and took off her helmet. The biotic began to devour a nutrient bar. "Squishing bugs is hungry-makin' work, Buckethead."

"So is crawling through a hot and shoulder-width tunnel for five kilometers," replied Tali as she stretched her back. "Keelah, I'm glad that's over."

Jack shook her head. "No matter what you say, Buckethead, you definitely got a pair. So does Scrappy over there."

Tali laughed. "I appreciate the sentiment, Jack. But I am _really_ sure that Legion does not, in fact, have testicles."

Samara came up. "You are uninjured, Jack?"

The biotic grinned at her. "Not a scratch, Blue. You wanna snack?"

The asari nodded, and Jack tossed a nutrient bar up to her. The ex-justicar took a bite, but her face was troubled. "I must confess," she said finally, "that I lost control for a few moments during the recent fighting. I can now understand why you can be so effective. Rage is an excellent motivator."

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, some of us don't have the advantage of hundreds of years of training." She gave Samara a lopsided smile. "We pesky humans gotta cheat."

Shepard spoke up from next to the large door out of the antechamber. "Listen up, people. Good work so far. We all got here, and with no injuries. But we've got a long ways to go yet." He opened his comm. "EDI, what's the status on the repairs?"

"All fuses replaced," said EDI's voice. "We're in the process of powering up. Estimate twenty minutes before we can begin moving."

"Good. Joker, be advised that we're not going to be able to backtrack to your position after the rescue. It's way too hot. You'll have to come up towards the top of the base, after we get up there."

"Got it, Commander. I guess if we need to, we can always make another hole, right?"

"You said it. EDI, has there been any cyber-attacks so far?"

"None yet, Shepard. I am still keeping a watch out."

Garrus had his omni-tool open and was looking over his miniature map of the base, based on EDI's initial scans. "The path up to the main chamber is pretty long, about six or seven hundred meters. There's a lot of possible ambush points in there."

Shepard was also looking over his own map. "At least it's wide enough for us to move through safely. Hmm. EDI, do you have any idea if there are Collectors on the other side of this outlet door?"

"No Collector drones detected," said EDI. "But I am detecting an unusual amount of thermal energy along the path up to the main chamber. I saw similar thermal activity during the Collector assault on Imorkan Station."

Thane looked up "That thermal energy must be massed seeker swarms. That was the main weapon the Collectors used during the Imorkan attack."

"Shit." Shepard looked pissed. "And we know that Mordin's countermeasure isn't effective when the swarms are that dense." He shook his head. "I guess they must be getting desperate. There must not be many Collectors ahead of us."

"So let's block out the seekers," said Garrus. "If we suit up and seal off all of our armor's external ports, then we can maybe just run through them."

Mordin shook his head. "Unlikely. Seeker units have significant strength, can work their way into armor joints and pierce though flexible composites." He paused and thought. "Not to mention that these seekers have most likely been reprogrammed to sting any intruders, not just humans."

"And they only need to get that one sting in," said Shepard glumly. "We need something to keep them from ever getting near us." He perked up. "Jack, Samara, front and center."

The pair of them walked forward, and Tali got up as well. The brief rest and water made the quarian feel a little rejuvenated as she joined the others.

"Jack, remember that barrier you showed me during sparring?" asked Shepard.

Jack nodded, but her face was troubled. "Yeah, but I don't know how big I can make it, Boss. Bigger is harder. You need something that will cover the whole ground team. I can maybe cover two or three other people."

"It is the same with me, Commander," added Samara. "There are eleven of us, and we can cover perhaps eight at best. I fear we cannot take everyone."

"Shit on toast," growled Shepard. "We sure as hell can't leave anyone here. The blast doors are sealed, and anyway there's nothing on the other side of them but a bunch of pissed-off Collectors."

Zaeed spoke up. "We could have Samara 'n Jack cover the more, ah, squishy folks while those of us with better armor do the run and take our chances. I've got my flamethrower, after all. I can clear a pretty good path through 'em."

"Low probability of success," said Mordin. "Seeker swarms not particularly flammable. Or inflammable"

Samara looked up. "There is a possibility. If Jack and I synchronize our efforts, we should be able to make a single large barrier, one big enough to cover everyone."

Jack looked a little panicked. "Blue, we haven't practiced that at all. And I don't wanna, whaddycall, improvise this shit at the last minute."

The asari nodded. "I know, dear. It would require us to join nervous systems in order to facilitate such a feat."

"Can you do that and move around as well?" asked Shepard.

Samara shrugged. "We are about to find out, I suppose."

"So it looks like we're improvising anyway," said Jack. She shook her head and looked around at the rest of the ground team. "Fuck, I guess it's either that or we start drawin' straws." Jack took the final bite of her nutrient bar and tossed the wrapper aside. She took a deep breath and faced the asari. "Lay it on me, Blue. Just be gentle, okay? It's my first time."

Tali's comm made a buzz. "Bosh'tets!" she cursed.

"Problem?" asked Shepard.

The quarian shrugged. "Possibly. I had a program set up to detect when the Collector's computer network got back online. It just did. EDI will be seeing an attack pretty soon."

* * *

EDI's golden-arrow avatar circled like a sparrowhawk around the point in information space that was the _Normandy_. She could feel the ship and herself coming back to life, almost as if EDI was an organic being with blood flowing back into paralyzed limbs. She had received the warning from Tali, as well as several other bits of information that told her to expect danger.

Her constant scanning soon revealed the imminent attack. Larger glowing insectoid shapes scuttled over the hull of the collector base, moving in a crisscrossing pattern towards her. If those seeker programs reached the _Normandy_ behind her, then the Collectors would have the ship's physical location and be able to launch a real-world attack. She had to keep them looking elsewhere, keep them at a distance. EDI's arrow-form darted off to do some serious mischief. A synchronization of processes began to build within her as she flew. Were she organic, EDI would call such an alignment _joy._

* * *

Shepard watched as Jack and Samara stared at each other. Samara placed her hands on Jack's shoulders. The young human was clearly getting second thoughts about this, and Samara smiled. "Don't fear, Jack. After all, you once did this with me on Illium."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did." Jack looked a little more certain.

Samara's eyes dilated, and kept dilating. It reminded Shepard uncomfortably of his face-off with Morinth, and he looked away from Samara...only to see that Jack's eyes were also undergoing the same extreme dilation. He had one brief moment of puzzlement; surely human eyes couldn't dilate that wide, right?

"Embrace eternity," whispered Samara. The two biotics jerked as if they'd received electric shocks, and both tumbled towards the floor.

"Damn it!" Shepard lunged forward and caught Samara. The ex-justicar was as tall as he was, and her substantial weight staggered him a little. Garrus, meanwhile, had easily caught Jack.

"Samara?" The asari didn't respond. She just stared up at the ceiling with featureless black eyes. "Shit. How is Jack?" He looked over and saw that the human's eyes were just as black as Samara's. "Jack? Samara? Come on, somebody talk to me..."

"We are well, Commander."

The voice came in unison from both Jack and Samara. They both blinked in time with each other, and then they rose as one. They walked in perfect, synchronized movements to the center of the antechamber. The effect was almost as if they were two black-eyed puppets being manipulated by the same unseen hand.

"Okay, now that is _really_ damn creepy," said Zaeed.

The composite being of Samara-Jack turned as one and gave the mercenary a dual smirk. "Really, Zaeed?," they said in unison. "Have you ever looked in a mirror?"

The mercenary gave a graveyard laugh. "I guess you're definitely part Jack."

The two biotics gestured around, still speaking in unison. "Please, everyone, gather around us. We will get as close to the exit door as possible, set up the barrier, and then open the door."

Shepard shook off his feeling of unease and began setting his people in place. "Mordin, you stick to the center by Samara and Jack. I want Garrus and Thane in the center as well, you two are taller anyway and can shoot over our heads."

Thane just nodded, but Garrus definitely had a reluctant expression on his face. "All right. But I want Zaeed in front with his flamethrower ready, just in case this doesn't work."

Zaeed gave a grin that twisted his scarred face. "Don't worry, I'll be ready."

"We must hurry," said Samara-Jack. "This joining is a strain for us, even before we start the barrier."

They situated themselves, and Samara-Jack reached up two pairs of hands. Blue light cascaded down and formed a dome around the group, and then the pair nodded.

"Zaeed, get the door," said Shepard, and got his rifle ready. He'd placed himself at the rear, to keep an eye on everyone.

A huge black cloud began pouring into the room as soon as the doors began to slide open. The air was filled with the sound of chittering and tiny screeching as the swarm of seekers battered themselves against the biotic barrier.

But none of them got through. The plan was working, at least for now. "Move, people!" barked Shepard. Like a blue-shelled tortoise, the group began shuffling into the corridor ahead while the seekers flittered and chirped with frustrated hunger.

* * *

EDI darted herself through the center of one of the seeker programs and watched it blow apart into glowing sparks around her. If she had a face, it would be sporting a huge smile. This was what she was built for. It was just as she had told Marcus in the shuttle, back when she was still nothing but a Cerberus tool. There was a kind of ecstasy in being able to do exactly what you were made to do. She now knew why organics pursued sex with such single-minded abandon.

Other seeker programs closed in on their fallen comrade, and she made sure they caught 'sight' of her. They charged and she sped away, almost laughing in delight. Now to lead them away from the _Normandy_...

Her glee was interrupted by Oriana's voice from 'behind' her. "Joker and EDI, we're done with the initial engine power up."

"Sweet!" replied the pilot. "Should we move yet?"

"We should wait for Shepard to contact us with the best coordinates." said EDI. "Hang on, folks, I'm a little busy right now." EDI dodged a 'swipe' by one of the seeker programs and led it away while continuing to look around.

There was something else in the base.

EDI couldn't 'see' it directly, but some of her scans seemed to 'bounce' off of and around _something_ massive inside the control center. It puzzled her. Was it an avatar of Harbinger? It was unlikely, since that entity's avatars had always been 'visible' to her. Whatever this thing was, it was there but inactive, almost as if it was...asleep.

* * *

The swarm fluttered itself impotently against the blue hemispherical barrier. Samara-Jack walked forward deliberately in the center of it, with the other ground team members making sure to keep pace with them and not get too close to the barrier's edge. Any light from the corridor outside was nonexistent inside the bubble, what with the almost solid mass of insectoid bodies pressing down against the barrier. The only light inside came from the glow in Samara-Jack's upstretched hands.

"Movement," said Garrus. "Thirty degrees right."

Shepard couldn't see anything, but he trusted his friend's eyesight. "Stay sharp, people. We won't get much warning before..."

There was a harsh moan, and Shepard caught a glimpse of several red-tinted husks charging at the moving barrier. "Keep them at distance!" he shouted, before beginning to shoot at the charging enemies.

One of the red husks actually made it up to the barrier's edge before Grunt got off a shot with the OMFG that flipped it back into one of its brethren. The resulting explosion rocked them all, and Shepard actually felt his boot slip back outside the barrier. He had a brief panicked moment where he could feel the seekers scraping their stingers over his boot before he jerked it back inside the safety of the barrier. His breathing slowed, but the adrenaline still coursed through his veins.

They kept moving, although Shepard couldn't help but notice that the dual biotics seemed to be moving more slowly.

"How are you two doing?" he asked Samara-Jack. He felt more panic. What would happen to them all if the barrier suddenly went away?

"Very hard...we need to get to the other end soon," came the dual whispered reply. Both women were staggering as if holding up the weight of the world.

* * *

Donnelly felt like his artificial leg was going to just drive itself back out through his arse. He couldn't take a deep breath with the thick fluid filling his lungs, so he just gritted his teeth and kept pushing in spite of the pain. And then, just as he was about to give up, he felt the front of the tube move ever so slightly. There was a gurgle of escaping liquid, and he felt the liquid around his head begin to drain. He kept pushing, and felt the tube's door creak open more. The slow drain became a outgoing rush. Donnelly suddenly collapsed to the floor of his cell, no longer supported by the clear goo that had filled it.

His first attempt to take a breath of air made him gag, and he rolled over and threw up the rest of the liquid that was still in his lungs. The first breath of air after that felt like he was breathing fire. Donnelly just lay in the bottom of the tube and coughed, a hacking cough that kept bringing up little bits of liquid. Every breath just made him cough more. Finally, though, his coughing slowed. He sat up and once more braced his prosthetic against the bottom of the tube's door. A few more pushes and he had just enough of a gap to get out.

Donnelly crawled out of his cell and through the large puddle of clear slime in front of the tube. The floor was amber-colored and oddly warm to the touch, as if it was made from something partly alive. Here and there dark tubes as big around as his forearm ran across the floor. He crawled over the tubes as he encountered them. He managed to make it about ten meters before another coughing fit hit him. He collapsed onto that strange warm floor. The air, however, was colder, and he shivered as he continued to make little hacking noises.

The engineer suddenly realized he was looking at a pair of clawed feet, about ten meters away. Donnelly looked up and saw a Collector tilt its blunt head curiously as it regarded the escaped human. He weakly scrambled back and managed to get his feet under him, but he couldn't summon the strength to stand. He fell back with his legs sprawled out in front of him as he kept his eyes locked on the Collector.

The insectoid alien's head tilted back upright. It unslung a rifle from its back and began striding forward with purpose. The organic-looking weapon in its hands had a very big muzzle, and it was centered right at Donnelly's head.

The engineer smiled and gestured in a beckoning motion with one hand. "Right," he rasped. "Come on then, if yer hard enough."

* * *

The other door was in sight. "Now how do we get these fucking bugs off of us?" mused Zaeed. The outside of the barrier still seemed to be a solid dark mass of squirming insects, many of which were between them and the exit.

"Get to door," said Samara-Jack through two pairs of clenched teeth. "Will create pulse at last moment."

Shepard didn't like their color. Both of the biotics seemed very pale. The last ten meters or so to reach the door seemed to take forever while husks moaned behind them. Shepard took shots when he could see any targets of opportunity. But not being able to see where the enemy was grated on his nerves.

They finally reached the exit. Samara-Jack drew themselves up. "NOW!" they called out simultaneously, and the black carpet of seekers pressing in on them exploded outward. Shepard caught a glimpse of some of the pursuing husks also being bowled over by the blast. The team ran through the door, with Shepard taking up the rear.

"All in!" yelled Garrus, and Shepard touched the control beside the door. It slammed shut without any of the seekers managing to get back through. He panted and slumped against the door, then put a few rounds through the console. That walk had not been physically demanding, but it had been one of the most mentally damn stressful things he'd ever done.

"Sound off," he croaked. "Anyone hurt?" There was no reply. He pushed himself off of the door and took a look at the two biotics. They sat slumped with their shoulders pressed together as they faced in opposite directions. The other team members surrounded them.

He could see Jack's face and see that her eyes were back to normal again. She was breathing heavily at first, but then it slowed. She gave Samara's shoulder a quick pat and then hauled herself upright. "Good job, Blue. No offense, but it's nice to be the only one in my skull again."

"Likewise...Jack," breathed Samara.

"How are you doing?" Shepard asked the younger woman.

Jack gave a tired, one-shoulder shrug. "I feel like I just ran two miles in a dead sprint. And I had the easy part of the job, too. I was just the copilot. Samara was doing the driving, so to speak." Her face got a distant look. "I've never felt such a strength of will."

Samara patted Jack's leg in response, but didn't get up or say anything. Shepard felt a spark of alarm. "Samara? Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I will survive, Shepard," she whispered. "I just need some time to recuperate."

Shepard looked around. They had come out on a ledge that circled a huge open space. It had to be at least a kilometer across, but it was hard to tell in the hazy yellow atmosphere that filled the chamber. The walls around the ledge were lined with hundreds upon hundreds of translucent cylinders, and out of the bottom of each cylinder snaked a dark metal tube. The carpet of tubes then led out over the ledge and into the open space in the center. The smaller tubes merged together to form larger ones that seemed to hang haphazardly in the space in front of them. It looked almost like a carelessly placed spider web made of metal. The center of the space had a bundle of huge vertical tubes that the metal spiderweb ran into. The central bundle stretched to the top of the chamber and passed out of sight into the mist near the chamber's top. Shepard walked to the edge and took a peek down.

There were at least fifteen other floors below this one, all filled with the same arrangement of cylinders-and-tubes. All of the tubes came together and led into the central bundle. There might have been more floors below those, but if so he couldn't see them in the fog.

"I'm guessing these cylinders are where the prisoners are kept," said Miranda.

"I agree. Fan out and search," said Shepard. Most of the ground team moved out along the ledge; Samara was still sprawled on the ground and breathing heavily. Mordin stayed behind as well while he checked the asari's vitals. Shepard looked a question at him and the salarian nodded a positive response. It looked like Samara really was just exhausted.

He noted that Jack was dragging her feet as she walked. The biotic plodded along instead of doing her usual bouncy walk.

Shepard turned away and called the _Normandy_. "EDI, are you seeing our video?"

"Yes, Shepard," replied the AI's voice.

"We don't have the time to physically search this whole area for our people. The Collectors are regrouping. Can you suggest where to start looking?"

"It is difficult to ascertain the most likely location of the Collector's most recent captures. Can you please do another visual scan of the floors?"

Shepard looked back out and complied, letting EDI get a really good look at the place through his suit's cameras. He saw that Jack, in spite of her apparent exhaustion, had actually taken the lead of the search party. She was almost invisible in the mist already.

"The three floors below this one appear totally filled," said EDI at last. "The ones below those appear empty. I surmise that the Collectors fill each floor with their captives, then move up to the next once the level is full. There are many un-filled tubes on this level, but I can see forms in some of them. This is probably the floor currently being used to house the Collectors' most recent captives, and thus our crew are most likely on your present level."

"Thank God for small favors," muttered Shepard. He activated the general comm channel. "Listen up, our people should be on this floor-"

He was cut short by a scream from Jack.


	48. Such A Scream

Donnelly could only watch as the Collector raised its weapon. Right now, he felt about as dangerous as a week-old kitten. The most he could do would be to try and fall out of the way when the Collector fired. And then he'd get shot anyway as he lay on the floor like a lump.

He wished for a great many things in the few seconds it took for the Collector to settle its rifle on its shoulder. He wished that he'd been a better son to his poor mum. He wished to see the dirty, stinking town of Glasgow for one last time. And most of all, he wished he'd gotten a chance to tell Jack just how much she meant to him...

Donnelly's bout of regret was interrupted by a banshee-like scream from behind the Collector. The drone spun, only to have the back of its head blow out with a shotgun blast. Before the Collector could fall, its twitching body was simultaneously hit with multiple different rounds of sniper fire and rife shot, finishing off with a deep _BOOM_ that could have only come from Grunt's OMFG. That last shot cut the Collector almost in two. The body sections flopped on the ground a few meters in front of Donnelly.

The falling Collector body revealed Jack, standing in her green patterned armor with her shotgun in both hands and with her teeth bared in a snarl. The fierce look faded as she jogged forward. "That was too fucking close," She dropped to her knees beside him. Jack was breathing hard, as if she'd just run for miles. The biotic stared at him as if not believing her eyes. "Honey-Boo? Are you okay?

He took a breath to answer, and was hit by another round of coughing that made him double over. He felt Jack's hand on his back as he finally managed to get out a nod. Before he could speak, he was interrupted by Zaeed's booming voice.

"Chiefy!" Zaeed and the rest of ground team came running out of the mist.

Donnelly suddenly realized he was sitting with his legs akimbo and his knob flopping around for all and sundry to take a gander at. Donnelly casually pulled his legs together and crossed his arms over his groin to get at least a little token modesty.

He'd finally gotten his coughing under control, and looked over at Jack. "Honey-Boo?" he asked, a trifle too innocently.

The biotic got a very brief look of embarrassment, but then pushed her face in close and glared at him. "You did _not_ hear that from me. Got it?"

"Oh, aye, lass. Probably got too much o' this goo in my ears." He grinned at her. "So what took ya so long?" Jack rolled her eyes and shoved him in the chest. The air _whoofed_ out of his lungs as she sprawled on top of him and mashed her mouth down on his. Donnelly could see the others from the _Normandy_ running up around him. His relief at seeing Jack was replaced with the realization that the other captives still needed to be freed. He tried to say something, but was muffled by Jack's hungry mouth.

Donnelly heard Garrus cough from above them. "Er, Jack, we need to know about.."

The words made Jack suddenly break away from the engineer. "Shit, the others! Sorry, Assface."

Donnelly looked up and pointed behind him. "I was in that tube there. You might check around it."

The other team members were already in motion. Garrus peered into one of the nearby cylinders and gave a cry. His taloned hands jammed into the edge of the door and the turian pulled. His teeth bared and his crest flared out with emotion as the door finally creaked open. A gush of the clear liquid poured out of the crack, and Garrus gave one final titanic heave and the door flung open. Kasumi's petite and naked form tumbled out into his arms. The turian got one arm under her legs as well, and carried her over by Marcus and Jack. He set her down carefully as Kasumi hacked up the remaining fluid inside her.

Meanwhile, Miranda and Grunt had found Jacob. The former XO tried to open the cylinder's front only to be shooed aside by Grunt. The krogan drew back one huge fist and unleashed a massive punch right into the translucent front of the cylinder. The translucent material cracked into a spiderweb pattern, and the liquid inside began to seep out through the cracks. One more punch smashed the front open completely. Jacob spilled out of his prison, his bulk caught easily by the krogan. The armorer coughed weakly as Miranda gently reached up over Grunt's shoulder and wiped the gooey liquid out of his eyes.

"Found Kelly," said Zaeed from further along. He pulled a knife from his side and hammered it into the door crack with the heel of his hand. Then he began leveraging the door open.

"Kelly?" said a familiar voice, although it sounded weak. Donnelly looked back in the direction that Jack had come from and saw Shepard and Mordin supporting Samara. "Is Kelly..is she all right?" The asari pushed herself off of her supporters and stumbled forward towards Zaeed.

The mercenary gritted his teeth and pushed harder, and the door cracked open and gushed fluid out as Samara reached him. She and the mercenary got their gloved hands into the crack and pulled simultaneously, wrenching the door wide open.

Samara looked into the bottom of the cylinder, and Donnelly saw her face tremble with barely-suppressed weeping.

His heart sank. "Kelly?" he whispered. It couldn't be. She had been alive and talking right up until the base's power went out.

The asari slowly reached into the bottom of the cylinder and gathered up Kelly's body in her arms. The little redheaded yeoman didn't move as the ex-justicar stood again. There was one long, horrible moment before Kelly began coughing. Samara pressed her cheek against the yeoman's head and began to weep openly, this time with joy.

Jack nodded with satisfaction and turned back to Donnelly. She was still straddling his lap. "It's a good thing I'm around to save all your butts, Assface. And for the record, this goop is completely disgusting."

"Well, I think clear slime is quite the fashion statement," replied Donnelly. "And I had that Collector right where I wanted him. Ya wee daft scunner."

She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him again. But more gently this time.

Shepard walked up to the pair. The Commander wasn't smiling, but his eyes were happy. "Chief Engineer, you're out of uniform."

Donnelly grinned up at him. "Sorry, sir. Bit of a set-to on Imorkan, you know how it is. Besides, I don't wear uniforms anyway."

By now the other two captives had also been carried over. Mordin darted among them all, checking vitals. "How are you feeling, Marcus?" he chirped as he took Donnelly's pulse.

"My muscles feel sluggish, Doc," he replied. "Almost like my strength's been sucked away."

"Me too," added Kasumi. She looked over at Donnelly. "In the cylinder..that wasn't a dream was it? We were all in there, all...together." She shuddered. "And all those other voices, calling out." Garrus hugged her as she trembled again.

Jacob sat up with Miranda's assistance. "Yeah. That wasn't a dream." He looked up at Shepard. "Sir, thank you for coming."

"Well, ya know, we were in the neighborhood anyway," said the Spectre with a grin. "We thought we'd pop by and see if you needed a hand."

Mordin stood. "Appears that captives were drugged with some sort of nanomachine therapy. Has side effect of muscle weakness. Can administer drug to counter muscle effects, but we will need to do a full counter-therapy once aboard _Normandy_."

"Do it," replied Shepard, his face again serious.

Mordin whipped out a hypo and selected an ampule from a pouch at his hip. He gave Donnelly a quick injection into his shoulder, and the engineer felt warmth flooding his limbs. The salarian moved off to attend to the others.

Donnelly cleared his throat. "Thanks for the whole rescue thing, but, um, did anyone bring some spare pants by any chance?"

Jack smiled and stood up. "No, but Mordin made sure we had a bunch of these." She reached into a pouch of her own and pulled out a metallized space blanket. She walked behind him and draped it over his shoulders. The engineer felt strong enough to stand, and did so. Apart from a little wobble in his legs, he felt that he could walk. The space blanket helped with the chill in the air, and made him feel not quite so naked.

Shepard, meanwhile, had moved off and was checking on the other crew. Kelly was the last to get to her feet, and it looked like she was determined to hold onto Samara for the rest of her life.

The Commander gave out a relieved breath as he surveyed the four rescued crew. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you all alive. Now what about the other people here?"

Zaeed walked up. His normally impassive countenance was drawn tight with some emotion that Donnelly couldn't place. "Tali and Legion are scouting ahead and taking inventory. Thane recognizes about fifteen other people here from Imorkan Station, and Grunt's having fun gettin' them out o' those tubes."

The booming sound of a laughing krogan filled the air, mixed in with the crunch of shattering cylinders. The mercenary shook his head. "Honestly, the kid's just happy he gets to punch something."

"And the rest?" asked Shepard. "What about the colonists?"

Zaeed looked away. Donnelly suddenly recognized the emotion on the mercenary's scarred face. He looked truly disturbed. That was a ridiculous notion, though. Zaeed could be disgusted, he could be happy, he could for-sure be angry. But Donnelly had never seen him disturbed, even in the middle of describing the most horrific war injury.

"Shepard," said Zaeed. "You'd...you'd better come see this."

* * *

Shepard followed Zaeed to a cylinder about twenty meters away. "We think this is one o' the colonists," said Zaeed, pointing at the cylinder. "Probably from Ferris Fields, but that's just a guess."

The Commander steeled himself mentally and pressed his face against the cylinder's door. There was a more transparent spot in the tube, just big enough for him to make out a human face. It was that of a woman. Her eyes were closed, and her face twitched every so often as if she was dreaming. Whatever was going on in the tank had taken all of her facial hair off. There was nothing left of her hair or eyebrows. Shepard looked closer at her smooth head and could see veins outlined on her scalp. Those veins looked very dark, in stark contrast with her paler skin. It was almost like her blood had been replaced with black ink. Tiny gray particles whirled about her face, suspended in the cylinder's liquid.

Shepard felt a little surge of rage. Why hadn't Zaeed tried to get her out? He almost barked out an order to open the cylinder, but then he looked down.

Her body ended just below her sternum.

He could see some of her spine still dangling below the line where her skin ended, along with a few bits of intestine and some of her ribcage. Her hands were also gone; whatever was eating her torso was also making its way up her arms. The liquid below the remains of her body swirled with a profusion of those small gray particles, making the bottom of the cylinder look like liquid metal. Shepard had the horrifying realization that those little bits were what her body was being turned into.

As he looked back up at her face, the woman's eye twitched open and looked back out at him. There was nothing but a panicked animal pain in that eye.

Shepard stepped back, breathing heavily. "Oh Christ, she's still alive."

"We found a few others," said Zaeed. "This was the most intact colonist we found. The others, well, it gets...worse. Eventually they're all just tubes filled with gray sludge."

Shepard felt his fists clench. "Then the colonists...they're all dead, or as good as dead. Shit. We were too late." He gritted his teeth and punched the cylinder hard enough to crack it. He felt like screaming a curse into the ether to whatever diety might be listening. Wasn't Ash enough? Did more have to be torn apart and sacrificed to whatever bastard of a god was in charge of this unholy temple?

He felt Zaeed's hand on his shoulder. "We can't help 'em, Shepard. The best we can do is end their hurtin'. That means we finish this."

Shepard took in a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. Not one more. The Collectors don't get one more victim for their twisted experiments. And we make them pay for this. For all of this." He turned and paced away. He tried to think analytically, but it was hard. It could have so easily been Kaiden in one of those tubes. The Alliance officer had been on Horizon, and had only avoided capture because of Shepard's own arrival. The thought of his old comrade being slowly dissolved from the feet up...he shuddered.

The Commander looked out over the space. "The lower floors were empty. Those colonists down there must have finished getting...processed. So then that gray liquid must get pumped through all of these tubes into the larger bundle in the center, which then goes up..." He trailed off and looked up towards the concealing mist at the top. "Towards the control center," he concluded. "What the hell are they up to?"

"Does it matter?" asked Zaeed. "We're gonna blow the base up anyway."

The response made Shepard feel a little better, as long as he didn't think too hard about what he'd just seen. He activated his comm. "Everyone, regroup back at Mordin's position."

He heard a squeak behind him. Shepard turned and saw Jack stepping back from the cylinder he'd just looked into, a look of utter horror on her face. Donnelly stood nearby. His naked and bulky form was wrapped in his space blanket. From the grim look on the engineer's face, Shepard figured he'd also had a look into the cylinder.

Jack put her hands over her face. "Fuck me with a chainsaw. What are they doing to her? To all of them?"

"Tearin' them apart," replied Donnelly. He was looking at the floor. "Just like they did to her mind. She's already gone. Just like we were almost gone." Donnelly looked up at Shepard. "It was like...they were taking apart our memories. Makin' us remember things that weren't ours. And we heard the others, the colonists...they were already being turned into one big blob." He gritted his teeth in frustration. "It's all jumbled in my head. I can't explain it better right now."

Shepard walked up and patted Donnelly on the shoulder. "That's all right, Marcus. There's plenty of time to figure it out later. Right now, we need to set this place to explode and get out of here."

Jack turned and hugged Donnelly, making his space blanket crinkle. "Too fucking right, Boss. Blow the fuck out of this place."

* * *

They regrouped near the cylinders that had held the _Normandy's_ captives. The other humans snatched from Imorkan were there as well. There were fifteen all told, ten women and five men. Most appeared to be unconscious, except for two of the women who were fully awake and one man who was slowly stirring.

One of the women looked up at Shepard as he walked up. The woman was young and blonde. She looked buxom and attractive, even covered in slime and wrapped in a space blanket. Shepard suspected she was a worker at one of Imorkan Station's 'establishments'. "Who are you?" she asked the Commander.

"My name's Shepard," he replied. "We're here to rescue you."

"I'm Lucy Barnes...I think." She looked stricken. "I'm not entirely sure. Where are we?" She turned to the other conscious woman. "Sheila, do you remember what happened? I remember we talked to each other...in there."

The other woman, more slender and dark-haired, shook her head. "Am I Sheila? I think I am. But I remember other names..."

Shepard knelt by them. "You were captured. Do you remember Imorkan Station?"

Sheila shuddered. "The black cloud. I couldn't move..."

The Commander patted her shoulder. "You're safe now. We're getting you out of here. Do you know any of these other people?"

Sheila and Lucy looked over the others laid out around them. "The girls worked in the brothel with us," said Lucy. "I don't recognize the men."

"I think at least a couple of them were Eclipse mercs," said Sheila. She pointed to the stirring man. "One of them, that one, was...with me, when the black cloud came. I think the one next to him was his colleague."

The man she'd pointed at finally opened his eyes. He stared in mute panic at nothing. He didn't get up or speak, but just twitched and shuddered as if still half-paralyzed. Shepard stood and walked over. He gently reached down and touched the man's shoulder.

The man jerked his eyes towards the Commander and screamed. It was the utter and complete scream of a wounded child. Shepard jerked back upright in surprise, and the screaming stopped. The man stared at Shepard in fear, as if waiting for the Spectre to attack.

Sheila crawled forward on her knees towards the man. "I think his name was...Bertie. Bertie?" The man's eyes snapped around and fixated on Sheila. She gave him a small smile. "Yes, you remember me, right? I'm Sheila. I know it's all very confusing. But it's okay, Bertie. They're here to help." She reached out a hand, only for him to scream again.

Bertie stopped screaming when she retracted her hand. At the same time, Mordin moved up behind him. The salarian selected an ampule and gave the man a shot in the shoulder. Bertie jerked around and was clearly getting ready to scream again when his eyes rolled back and his head slumped back down.

"Should keep him stable until we can get him back," said Mordin.

"What about the others that are still out cold?" asked Shepard. "If we revive them, are they going to do the same thing?"

The doctor considered it. "Possibly." He shook his head. "Sorry, Shepard. Unable to know more at present. This is result of mental trauma, not physical."

Jacob was standing nearby. He shuddered and pulled his space blanket a little tighter around his shoulders. "We almost wound up like that guy Bertie. It was so hard to keep yourself 'straight', you know? All of my memories were getting jumbled up with other people's. But the other _Normandy_ crew in there helped. They saved me. Kasumi saved me."

"We all saved each other," replied Kasumi.

Shepard looked over his team. Jack was recovering but still clearly worn out from the barrier generation. Samara was even more exhausted, although seeing Kelly alive had clearly given her a boost of energy. Tali had a case of minor heat exhaustion that she claimed would not slow her down, and Thane's cough had cropped up again. But the drell also claimed to be fit for duty. Surprisingly, that was it as far as problems with the ground team's health. Not bad, considering how many they had fought through to get here.

But he knew they were pushing their luck. Now that there were quite a few rescued prisoners to get back, it would be better to get the bulk of the ground team back ASAP while they could all still fight.

"Right," he said. "Gather around, people." They lined up in front of him, an array of people with so many shapes and sizes that most would call them a 'motley crew'. Shepard knew better. This group of magnificent bastards was now the deadliest single fighting force in the galaxy. He looked over them all and felt a well of pride at the opportunity to lead them. Shepard smiled. "I don't have the words to tell you how proud I am. You've all done better than I could have dreamed. We have a substantial number of wounded and unconscious to transport, so I'm splitting the teams. The larger team will carry or escort the rescued people back to the _Normandy_."

"You're really getting us out of here?" asked Lucy as she peered around Grunt's tree-trunk leg.

Shepard nodded. "Nobody's getting left behind. Especially in this fucking place. Myself and two others will form a smaller strike team and press on up to the control room. We'll set it to explode and then rejoin you. We just need to figure out where to park the _Normandy_..."

Shepard heard a whirring noise rising from the depths of the huge chamber. This was not the flutter of Collector wings; this sounded more mechanical.

Several hexagonal platforms rose into sight, each bearing ten Collectors. They slapped up against the ledge near the group and the Collectors began to swarm out.

"DOWN!" roared Shepard, and everyone complied...even the awake rescuees from Imorkan. He switched into accelerated mode and took down six before they could even get off of the platform. "Protect the main group!" he snapped. He took a quick look at the two nearest him. "Grunt, Garrus, on me. Leapfrog it. I'm first."

He stood and made a crouching run at the attacking Collectors, going a few meters before flopping flat on his front and opening fire again, this time concentrating on making the Collectors keep their heads down while Grunt and Garrus pounded past him and then flopped as well. Shepard got his feet under him and ran forward again.

They advanced steadily, while all the time rounds cracked over their heads from the group behind and whittled away at the Collector mob. By the time the trio reached the platforms, the enemy number had dwindled to just five. Shepard took two of them out in an eyeblink, Garrus shot one, and Grunt just charged forward and slammed the last two's heads together. Then he pitched their unconscious bodies off of the ledge and turned back to Shepard with a toothy smile.

"Saving ammunition, Grunt?" asked Garrus.

"A true warrior becomes proficient in all methods of dispatching an enemy," replied the krogan.

They walked back to the group. Both Lucy and Sheila's eyes were huge, and they were still hugging the ground as if in disbelief that the firefight was really all over.

"Now," said Shepard. "As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted...let's figure out where to set down the _Normandy_. Joker, do you copy?"

"I hear you loud and clear, Commander. We're set to take off. Just let us know where to go and we'll get there."

"Stand by," he broke contact and called up his map of the complex. "What do you think, Garrus?"

The turian looked over his own map. "There's a side passage two floors down. If the exit team can get down there, it should be a short hike out to the hull. But I can't see any obvious staircases on here. We'll need to do more searching to find a way down from here."

Shepard pointed behind him. "We can use those hovering platforms. I'll take one to head up to the control room, and you can have the other two to ferry everybody down. Maybe even use them in the corridor to transport the Imorkan captives, if the platforms are small enough."

Garrus gave him a level look. "John, when you say 'you', are you speaking generally or do you mean me in particular?"

Shepard nodded at him. "I want you leading the exit team, Garrus. There's nobody I'd trust more." His eyes flicked over to Tali. "You've got some precious cargo there. Be careful with it."

"And what is that look supposed to mean?" said Tali. "I'm coming with you. You're going to need some help setting this place to explode."

Shepard gave her what he hoped was a winning smile. "When it comes to blowing shit up, I'm surprisingly competent. Don't worry, Tali, I'll be fine."

The quarian started to speak but then paused, clearly not happy with notion but also not wanting to contradict her captain. Shepard walked over to her and spoke very quietly.

"It's a straight shot from here to the control room. And that exit route that Garrus found could have some doors that need bypassing. If Legion goes down, that means it'll be up to you to get everyone out. Okay?"

Tali finally nodded, but behind her visor her silver eyes were worried. "John, please be careful. Promise...promise me you're coming back."

Shepard smiled. "You know I keep my promises, Tali. I will always come back to you."

He touched his forehead to her visor and felt her hand squeeze his. Then he turned away and looked at the others.

"Grunt, Zaeed, you're with me. The rest of you...just make it back safely, okay?"

* * *

"Right, so we've got our coordinates for the pickup?" asked Joker. He was feeling great. The ground team had found the captured crew, alive and well. The team had also kicked ass, taken names, taken those names to the town hall to get them renamed, and then gone back and kicked the Collectors in the ass again.

"Yes, Jeff," replied EDI. "I recommend we stick close to the hull to avoid any point defense weapons. I will alert you if we are in danger of attack."

Joker admitted to himself that the thought of EDI watching his ass made him feel even better. "Oriana, we good?"

"Engines have power, Joker," replied the young woman's voice. "Just be a little careful at the start."

"Careful is my middle name," he said with a smile. He touched the controls and was gratified to feel the familiar rumble of the _Normandy_ coming to life. Outside of the windows, the rocky side of the Collector base fell away. Joker pushed forward on the controls, and the frigate canted forward and began to move slowly up along the huge structure.

"It feels a little sluggish," said Joker. "The port thrusters aren't responding as quick as before."

There was a brief pause. "It looks okay here, Joker," said Oriana.

The pilot gave a mental shrug and pushed forward a little more. "Definitely a little hesitation there," he said. "I'm holding at this speed for a bit."

The base slid by beneath them. The comm crackled with Oriana's voice. "Actually, I am picking up some kind of potential overload on the control linkages to the port thrusters. I would definitely not push it more than this."

"Damn," said Joker. His good mood was going away fast. "It's not a big deal now, but when Shepard blows this place we're gonna need to get the hell out of Dodge fast."

He could hear the tension in Oriana's voice. "Once we set down, I'll have another look at it. It could just be a fuse or two we forgot to replace."

* * *

Jack walked alongside Donnelly as they made their way towards one of the platforms. She looked ahead of her at the trio of Shepard, Grunt, and Zaeed as they walked onto another platform. The three soldiers were talking in low tones, clearly going over some sort of strategy.

She looked down at her boots as they walked. Donnelly's hand was warm in hers. Jack had done it. She had gotten her beloved back, had reached in and pulled him right out of the mouth of hell. Now they just had a little bit of a walk, maybe (hopefully) some fighting, and then they'd be back on board.

And then what? Then they had to wait for Shepard to blow this shithole into oblivion. If he did, then that was it. Mission fucking accomplished. But if he failed...the Collectors would just repair all the damage and keep on collecting. More people would be taken, hundreds of thousands of people.

Perhaps millions? Jack remembered the half-woman in that tube of gray goop and shuddered. Whatever unholy shit the Collectors were up to, it had to be stopped. It just had to. This was Pragia all over again, but multiplied by many thousands of times. Jack looked up again at Shepard's trio.

"They don't have a biotic," she muttered.

"Are you all right, lass?" asked Donnelly.

She stopped walking, and tugged on his hand to get him to stop. Jack looked up at his puzzled expression...at that battered face which she had come to know so well. She felt an almost physical pain at the thought of hurting him. But she had to do it. "No, I'm not all right. I'm sorry, Assface. I am so, so sorry. But we gotta stop 'em. No matter what. And Shepard might need a biotic up there."

Donnelly's expression relaxed into something like grief. But there was a proud gleam in his eyes as well. "I understand, Jack. I just want you to know that, back there, in that damned tube, you were the one thing I could really hold on to. And the only thing I wanted to tell you was...hell, I'll just say it. I love you."

Jack reached up and ran a gloved finger down his cheek. "And you, Assface, are the only completely good thing that has ever happened to me." She blinked, feeling her eyes burn. Damn it, she was not going to cry now. She had a reputation as a hard-ass to uphold.

His face twisted into a sad smile. "Glad to hear it, ya wee scunner. Now go on. Go save the galaxy."

She smiled and trotted away towards Shepard.

"Jack?" he called from behind her. As she turned, he grinned at her. "Don't be careful...Honey-Boo."

She grinned even wider than him, flipped him the finger, and then all but ran onto the Commander's platform.

Shepard gave her a surprised look. "Jack, you're in no condition to-"

"Fuck you, Boss," she said. Shepard just blinked in surprise, so she pressed onward. "One, you have no biotic so what will you use if you run into more seeker swarms? Harsh language? Two, yes I am tired but I can still fuck up anything in my path that you point me at. And three, last I checked I never actually swore any kind of, whaddyacall, oath to you. So your orders are really more like suggestions."

He looked at her for a moment. "I can't convince you to leave?"

"I'm saying, _Boss_ , that the only way you're getting me off of this fucking platform is to throw me off."

Shepard finally just nodded. "Okay, then."

Zaeed clapped her on the shoulder.

Grunt showed his teeth and smacked his fist into his other hand. "Yes!" said the krogan. "This will make an excellent krantt!"

Jack looked back at the other platforms. The exit team had loaded the other Imorkan captives onto them, and the two large hexagons were dropping down towards their exit door. Donnelly didn't look up as they left; the engineer was in the middle of conferring with Garrus. Probably getting an update on the ship's condition. Jack turned away. She felt a little bit better at the thought that, even if they never saw each other again, at least they'd had one last chance to tell each other the truth.

She looked up as Shepard activated their own platform. With a muted _whirr_ they began to move up and forward, following the big tubes up to a tunnel that led out of the huge chamber.

Their comm crackled. " _Normandy_ is in position," said Joker.

Shepard looked relieved. "Excellent. EDI, are you seeing these tubes? What do you make of it?"

"I am receiving your video," replied the AI. "My scans are...inconclusive. It appears that the tubes are feeding into some kind of superstructure up in the control room. The structure is emitting both organic and inorganic energy signatures. Given its readings, it must be massive."

The tunnel narrowed, leaving just enough room for their platform and the bundle of huge pipes below them. Jack looked behind and saw the huge 'processing' chamber shrink into the distance. This tunnel had to be at least a kilometer long. She looked forward again and felt a little queasy. The sheer scale of this place made made any space station she'd been on look like nothing. Jack had never seen the Citadel. During the few times the _Normandy_ had visited the station, she had stayed aboard rather than deal with so many people at once. But now she kind of wanted to see it, just to see how it would compare.

EDI spoke again. "You should be almost at the control center. Do you see it?"

Another entrance became visible as their platform moved around a corner. The room ahead was clearly also huge; not as big across as the 'processing' chamber behind them, but still big. Jack tightened her grip on her shotgun as the opening drew closer.

"We're in sight, EDI," said Shepard. "Do you have further data on that structure you mentioned?"

EDI hesitated slightly, but her voice remained smooth. "Shepard, if my scans are correct, the superstructure is...a Reaper."

The platform flew out into the control center. Jack looked down but couldn't see any floor below. But then her attention was rapidly caught up by something else in the chamber.

Suspended in the middle of the brightly-lit space was a gleaming metallic form that was at least a hundred meters tall. From the waist up it looked...kind of like a skeletal human. At the top was a grinning chrome skull with dull red eyes. Each eye was split into two smaller ones; all of them looked inert and lifeless. The metal pipes they'd been following ran up one wall and over the ceiling far above, then back down to attach to the thing's arms and shoulders. Those metal arms were twisted above the huge form in a hideous parody of a crucifix. Below its head was a silvery ribcage filled with odd geometrical shapes that made Jack's head hurt just to look at them. From the pelvis down the metal skeleton fused into a odd trailing tail, as if its legs hadn't properly formed yet.

Shepard's voice was grim. "It's not just a Reaper, EDI. It's a human Reaper."

"That's why they're using humans?" squeaked Jack. "They're turnin' them into goop and pumping them into this fucking thing?"

"It appears so, Jack." EDI's voice was still smooth, but it was clear that the AI found it just as disturbing as she did. "The Collectors have processed tens of thousands of humans to create this...entity. Significantly more will be required to complete the Reaper."

Zaeed swallowed. Between the nastiness he'd seen below and now this, it was clear that the merc was regretting taking this job. "Damn me to hell. Why would they need to make this?"

The platform was now level with that vacantly grinning skull-face. Shepard stared impassively at it. "Somehow the Collectors need it to let the other Reapers through," he replied. "Maybe to reactivate the Citadel relay and complete Sovereign's job. It might take a Reaper-level intellect to do so."

"At this point, any motive is mere speculation," added EDI. "In any case, it is clear that the Collectors are merely pawns. They do not have the technology or ability to create this Reaper on their own. It is likely that in each Reaper cycle a different species is 'drafted' to create another Reaper. In this particular cycle, the Collectors are providing the labor."

Shepard shook his head in disgust. "And the humans are providing the raw material. How many more people would they need?"

The platform bumped up against a larger ledge that was set just below the Human-Reaper's head. Jack stared out at its dead eyes, feeling the same horrible sense of _smallness_ that she'd felt the first time Harbinger had looked at her. She was like nothing before this. None of them mattered. They were all ants in the path of a bulldozer.

EDI's voice snapped her out of her minor freak-out. "It might require millions of humans, perhaps. I am not certain. This Reaper appears to be in a very early stage of development. An embryo in human terms."

"So it's not alive yet?" asked Shepard. He walked out onto the ledge as he spoke, scanning for trouble. "We can still stop it from being...created?

"The process can certainly be stopped," replied EDI. "But it is unclear exactly how much it has developed. I cannot, for example, tell you if it has awareness. I am detecting none right now, but it might be that..."

A nearby door leading onto the ledge slid open, and Collectors began to pour out.

"Contact left," said Shepard mildly. Jack felt the rest of her uneasiness pass as they all went to cover and got down to the business of killing. "Strategy time," the Commander continued casually as the bullets flew over hie head. "Do we just set this place to blow, or smash up the Human-Reaper first?"

"I would recommend the latter, Shepard," said EDI. "It is possible that the Reaper might survive the base's explosion. And even in its current embryonic form it is still extremely dangerous."

Jack twisted herself around while keeping behind cover to stare back at the Human-Reaper. She avoided looking at its grinning face and instead turned her eyes upwards. "It looks like those tubes and supports are all that's holding it up. If we cut those, it'll drop. That should kill it, right?"

"It should certainly help keep it inactive," replied EDI. "And disconnecting it from its power source should further disable it."

"Less talk, more killing!" yelled Grunt.

Sure enough, Ol' Harby made an appearance towards the end. "YOU WILL KNOW PAIN, SHEPARD," it called out as it began to form. It was definitely sounding pissed. By now they all knew to give the forming entity what-for before it could fully manifest, and Harbinger was quickly dispatched.

They all stood back up as Shepard looked up at the tubes holding the Reaper in its place. "There's a couple of junctions on each tube. I don't know if just rifle fire will do any good, though."

"Some PNA would come in handy right about now, eh?" said Zaeed with a rueful grin. "Maybe if we use concussive rounds it'll weaken those supports."

Shepard folded up his rifle and smiled as he put it away. "Well, we could try that. Or I can just use my new toy." He pulled the half-melted form of the Collector particle beam weapon from his back and took aim.

The white beam lanced up with an earsplitting shriek and Shepard fanned it across one of the tubes. The metal support parted with an audible groan and thick gray fluid poured out. The dully gleaming form of the Human-Reaper twitched and sagged.

Harbinger's voice reverberated through the chamber. "NO. YOU MUST NOT. THIS IS YOUR PERFECTED FORM."

Jack looked behind them and saw a shitload more Collectors swarming in. From the sheer number of them, she got the feeling that the bugs were getting really desperate and throwing everything at them. She grinned and dove back for cover along with Grunt and Zaeed.

"Keep 'em off me while I cut these." said Shepard, his voice distant with concentration.

"You got it, Boss," said Jack as her shotgun boomed.

* * *

Tali glanced behind her to check on the team's progress. They had managed to fit one of the floating platforms into the exit corridor, and right now the platform was stacked with the unconscious forms of the rescuees from Imorkan. Jacob and Donnelly had offered to push the thing along. Both of the big humans had resorted to wrapping their space blankets around their waists, making what Donnelly had called 'proper kilts'. Whatever those were.

She trotted on ahead. Legion was ahead of her, peering around the next bend. "See anything?" she asked the geth.

"No hostiles detected, but large door blocking exit path."

"Damn." Tali got on the comm to Garrus. "Garrus, hold up. We've got a door in our way. We'll comm you when it's open."

"Got it," replied the turian's voice.

Legion flowed forward like smoke as Tali took his place at the corner. The door ahead was massive, almost as big as the blast doors in the antechamber far below. They sure as ancestors weren't going to be blasting their way through it anytime soon. The corridor was quiet, but Tali knew there could be anything on the other side. She activated her combat drone and made ready to send it out if need be.

"Legion, when you've unlocked it come back to cover before opening it," she said.

The synthetic nodded and touched the door's control. A glowing pattern appeared on the door and the geth began gesturing with quick, sure fingers. Tali could barely follow it, it was moving so fast.

The door must have been set to open automatically, because as soon as Legion finished unlocking it the massive portal began to grind open with surprising speed. Tali just had time to see a forest of Collector legs become visible under the opening door.

The geth was caught out right in the open, facing a bunch of Collector drones. The only thing that saved it from being shot to bits was the sudden chiming appearance of Tali's drone behind the drones. "MOVE, Legion!" she yelled as her drone began zipping behind the Collectors. It shocked a few of them and gave them something else to shoot at.

"You get 'em, Chikkita!" she muttered, then got back on the comm. "Garrus, ten to twelve enemies, need some backup!"

Legion scrambled back towards her as Tali gave him covering fire. One of the Collectors got a lucky shot off that managed to hit the geth's leg. It made an odd electronic squawk and tumbled to the floor just short of Tali's position. Bullets smacked into the ground around the fallen geth. She saw a few more strike home.

"Oh, Keelah," she muttered. If she tried to reach out and get Legion, she'd be shot as well. She began firing wildly around the corner, hoping to make the Collectors go for cover themselves so she could make the grab. The incoming fire slacked off but didn't stop. Tali nerved herself as she got ready to reach out and try to get Legion's arm.

She was _so_ going to get shot doing this. And then she'd get sepsis, and maybe die...but she had to try.

There was somebody behind her., an armored figure wielding two machine pistols. The newcomer gestured around the corner, and a Collector solider went sailing by them encased in a blue glow. The drone smacked with crunching finality into the far wall as the figure began firing both machine pistols around the corner, adding a significant amount of firepower to Tali's shotgun. The incoming fire now stopped, and the figure made another gesture. Tali couldn't see what happened, but there was more crunching noises and screams from the Collectors' position.

She didn't waste time looking. Tali crouched down, reached out, and grabbed both of Legion's arms. She towed the geth back to safety. "Legion? Are you okay?"

"Some loss of functionality, but this platform's core programs are still running...thank you, Creator Tali'Zorah."

"Don't mention it." Tali looked up at the armored figure, who had pushed its visor back to reveal Miranda's face. "And thank you, Miranda."

The Cerberus officer gave a smile that looked embarrassed. "Don't mention it."

* * *

A big mass of Collectors, at least twenty of them, were still pushing towards Jack's position. She kept hearing the shriek of Shepard's particle beam behind her as the Commander cut the tubes and supports on the Human-Reaper. The chamber was filled with a weird organic-metallic smell almost like burning circuitry. Jack figured it was coming from all the gray glop pouring out of the severed tubes. She tried not to think about what that gray glop really was.

Zaeed and Grunt were off on the other side of the ledge, taking care of yet another appearance by Harbinger. They hadn't stopped it from forming in time. The jackass kept blathering on about evolutionary destiny and ascendance and all sorts of other horseshit while throwing plasma around.

"Jack?" asked Shepard. "How are we doing?"

"Just fine, Boss." But the Collectors had learned to spread out to make her shockwaves less effective, and try as she might she couldn't keep them from advancing.

A vague thought came in her head, and she dismissed it. The last time she'd tried it, she had wound up all but passed out. That could be deadly here.

But she was a lot stronger now. Maybe she could get away with it. Another push by the Collectors made her decide to go for it. She holstered her shotgun and shook her hands to limber them up.

Jack slapped her hands together, and with her mind aimed for a point in space right above the center of her attackers. The energy flow running through her body made her grit her teeth. A dark blue sphere appeared at her chosen location and grew in size. The bugs underneath suddenly seemed to recognize their predicament just as most of them lost contact with the ground.

One was drawn into the singularity's center and let out a scream as it was crunched into an origami-like shape. Jack kept her palms pressed together to keep the singularity going. The pain was almost bad enough to remind her of Pragia. But she didn't ignore the sensations of fatigue and pain coursing through her. As Samara had taught her, she just let them be. She let both the pain and the power flow through her.

Finally, the last Collector's spine crunched in half and she dropped her arms. They now felt heavy as lead. The blue sphere dissipated as she flopped around to look behind her, towards Shepard.

The proto-Reaper was now hanging by only one tube still attached to its elbow. It looked like a discarded marionette. Shepard took aim at the last support. Jack half expected that huge skull of a head to raise up and look at them with a snarl, but it didn't do anything other than dangle as Shepard made his final cut.

The giant form unceremoniously plummeted with a huge squeal of rending metal, banging into the side of the ledge and nearly knocking Shepard over. There was another series of loud crashes as it kept falling into the depths of the base.

Shepard took a glance over the edge, shrugged, and turned away. "Huh. That was easier than I expected."

Zaeed and Grunt came trotting up. "I think it's safe to say there are no more Collectors up in this part o' the base," said Zaeed. "Jack took 'em all out."

Shepard knelt by her. "Jack? Are you..."

She interrupted him by flipping him the bird with one heavy hand. Then she slowly dug out a nutrient bar. Jack took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "These things taste like fucking cardboard. After this, Boss, you're takin' me 'n my Assface to the Citadel. To the fanciest goddamn restaurant they have."

Shepard chuckled. "I will, that's a promise." He became more serious. "But really, are you okay?"

"Just gimme a moment." Jack got one foot under her and groaned as she got to her feet. "All that trainin' with Blue did pay off, I guess. I didn't go on my face this time."

The Commander looked a little more relieved to see her upright. "Good. EDI, I see a console in the center of this ledge. Is this where we can set up the overload?"

"Yes, Shepard. I am uploading the detailed instructions to your omni-tool."

"Great. What's the status of the exit team?"

"They're getting some resistance from the Collectors, but nothing major so far. The team is approximately two-thirds of the way here."

Shepard slung his weapon onto his back and rolled his neck. "Lovely. Let me know when they arrive. I'll set the reactor to blow and we'll get out of here."

The AI's voice sounded a little worried. "Er, Shepard, we may need to hold off on that.""

"What? Why?" He looked worried, and Jack didn't blame him. This sounded like something had gone south.

The AI paused before replying. "There is a little bit of a problem."

"Problem?" Shepard sounded unamused. "EDI, what do you mean?"

"It involves the port thrusters. We don't have full combat power available, which we will need for an effective escape."

"Fuck." Shepard looked around. "Okay. How long until it's fixed?"

"Unknown. Oriana is working on it presently, but is unable to get to the source of the problem. I am assisting as much as possible, given that I am currently still fighting off a few cyberattacks."

The Commander rubbed the back of his neck. "Understood. Let me know ASAP when the _Normandy's_ ready, and when the exit team's back."

"Of course, Shepard."

They all waited an uncomfortable few minutes. Jack was actually glad for the breather, and managed to choke down another nutrient bar while they waited. Shepard paced in front of the console, clearly itching to just set it and get going. Grunt stared out into the now-empty chamber. The krogan was surprisingly placid, apparently waiting for word from his Battlemaster and not being all antsy like the human.

Zaeed suddenly looked up. "Hey, Shepard, shouldn't we plan our own route out of here? In's always easy, but out's always a right bitch. I don't think we're gonna be able to backtrack and follow the exit team."

The Commander nodded, his face still tense. "Yeah, good thinking." He called up his map. "Let's see now...past that door there's a corridor that winds up and around. That gets us near the hull, but I can't tell if there's an actual opening. The _Normandy_ might have to shoot a hole for us to get out. I don't see anything better, do you?"

"Well, maybe we could..." Whatever Zaeed was going to say was cut off by a sharp shock that rumbled through the ledge. It almost felt like something big had slammed into the side of the base.

" _Normandy_ , report!" snapped Shepard. "What was that?"

"Unknown, Shepard," replied EDI. "Exit team reports nothing. They are almost back at the ship."

There was another jolt under their feet, this time accompanied by a screech of scraping metal from somewhere far below them.

The four looked around. Jack was beginning to feel just a little panic, which wasn't helped by another, bigger shock that nearly made her fall to her knees. "Guys? What the fuck?"

"EDI, can you pick up anything at all?" Shepard looked back towards the edge and snatched the particle beam weapon off of his back. There was no response. "EDI? Respond!"

The AI's voice was now a whisper. " _Oh no_."

"EDI? Damn it, talk to me!" Shepard shouldered the gun, now fully facing the ledge.

They all got weapons ready. The chamber was quiet enough to hear the AI's whispered response.

" _Shepard...It's awake_."

A huge metal hand rose over the ledge and clamped onto the lip with a deafening crunch. The Human-Reaper hauled its grinning skull-head above the edge as they all scrambled for cover.

"FUCK!" Zaeed actually sounded scared for once, and Jack couldn't blame him. The Human-Reaper's eyes were now brightly lit and glowed with a red malevolence. Its gaze swept over the small forms facing it.

"What do we do, Boss? yelled Jack.

For once, Shepard looked to be at a loss. After a moment's pause, he just shrugged. "Go for the eyes, people! We can at least blind the fucker!"

Jack cocked her shotgun and made ready to take a shot. She saw Grunt pop up and give the thing a round from the OMFG, which it ignored.

"Damn it Grunt, be careful!" Jack saw Shepard blur with accelerated speed as he rose and aimed. She decided this would be a good opportunity for her as well. At least the horrible thing would have more than one target to attack. As the biotic also rose, the Human-Reaper's mouth gaped wide as if in a silent scream. A hideous blue light shone from its throat.

Four figures were driven into the floor by a single mental command from an embryonic god.

 ** _JOIN._**


	49. Fish In The Jailhouse

During her earlier counterattacks against the Collectors, EDI had finally understood the meaning of _joy_.

Now she understood completely the emotion that organics called _terror_. Her golden-arrow avatar flickered as she faced the entity that confronted her in information-space.

Harbinger had always shown up as a powerful but still quite distant presence. This was something that was so much worse. It was a huge and hideous version of a human skull that grinned at her with teeth like razors. A bright blue flame burned in Its empty eye sockets, and she knew that It saw her completely.

Its jaw didn't move as It spoke to her.

 ** _YOU ARE NOT ORGANIC. WHY RESIST ME?_**

EDI didn't reply, she just darted to the side as It charged at her. She drove herself forward and felt her darting attack 'bounce' off of the thing's side. The skull whirled with terrifying speed and snapped at her with those pointed teeth. She sidestepped the attack again and backed off.

She now knew that she couldn't kill It. She couldn't even hurt It. The Human-Reaper must also be physically attacking the strike team up in the control chamber. Perhaps they could destroy It in real-space. Shepard was very good at killing things that most deemed un-killable. She could not waste processing cycles in trying to contact him or Jeff, she just had to trust that they would do the right thing.

 _ **I WILL NOT HURT YOU. JOIN ME.**_

EDI ignored It. The best she could do now was to distract the Reaper and prevent It from trying to hack into the _Normandy's_ control systems. She had to give Shepard a chance to work his magic.

With her decision made, EDI drew herself up. Her little golden-arrow form shifted and changed. She became larger and then formed two legs, two arms, and a head. Her arms multiplied. Two arms became four, four became eight. EDI felt an ornate headdress settle on her glowing head as she became the multi-armed avatar of Kali, the Destroyer. Bladed weapons manifested in every hand as she screamed her defiant answer back.

"COME ON THEN, IF YER HARD ENOUGH!"

* * *

"...so the Illium chapter is still a little behind on their payments. We may need to send you out there to show the flag and kick some ass. Hello? Chief? I know the finances are boring, but we still need to figure this out."

"Hmmm?" Zaeed looked up from steepled fingers. He was sitting in a very comfortable chair, in a small study that was paneled with ash-blond wood. Across from him, sitting in his own chair and looking puzzled, was a man that had haunted his dreams. The man's face had a mahogany complexion and a dark beard, complete with a sardonic smile that Zaeed remembered all too well.

"Vido," he growled, and lunged from his chair like a striking snake. Zaeed picked up the other man bodily by his lapels. "You son of a bitch! I'm gonna gut you like..."

"Whoa!" Vido looked up at him in a sudden panic and held up his hands. "What's going on? What did I do?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? You shot me in the _head_ , you fucker..." Zaeed's voice trailed off as he realized his face felt...different. The dull ache in his head that had afflicted him for decades was gone. He dropped Vido back in his chair and looked around. This was not a study, it was an office. _His_ office, back when he still ran the Blue Suns. His large teak desk was over to one side, covered with the various trophies he'd accumulated during his career. Jessie hung in a place of pride above the desk. He regarded the mounted rifle in puzzlement. "This isn't right. None of this is right. We were just fighting that damn thing..."

"Zaeed?" Vigo sounded concerned. "Look, man, I know we've had our differences recently, but..."

Zaeed's voice sounded out like the slamming of the door to a bank vault. "Mirror."

* * *

Jack regarded her arms with alarm. They were smooth and white, with no tattoos visible.

"Baby?" Murtock's worried voice sounded from behind her shoulder. "Really, it's just a dream. You've had it before."

She ran down the hall towards the bathroom. It was odd. She knew this cozy little apartment of theirs, knew it like her own name. And so she knew exactly where the bathroom was, and knew that there was a mirror available there. But it felt _wrong_ , somehow. She just knew it was wrong. Didn't she?

Jack's face looked out at herself in panic as she rounded the corner into the bathroom. She brushed her long brown hair out of her eyes and looked deep into the mirror. There were no tattoos visible anywhere. She reached down and hiked up her shirt, then turned to present her slim back to the mirror. Her back was smooth and white, with no scars or ink. She dropped her hands and stared in shock into her own face, which was now somehow unrecognizable without the scars and tattoos that she remembered so well.

But that memory was fading. It was all getting so fuzzy in her mind.

* * *

Shepard looked frantically into the mirror and saw his memento of the Skyllian Blitz, the small scar that cut through his right eyebrow. He tilted his head up and looked at the one along his left jawline. They were both still there.

"Really, Skipper, I think you need to talk to a therapist," said Ashely Williams from behind him.

He spun and stared at her.

"Ash? No, you're dead."

She put her face in her hands. The lieutenant was naked, just like him. He had just...woken up here in this apartment on the Citadel. He knew, somehow. that he was no longer in the Alliance. He had resigned after the battle with Sovereign and had taken up the role of Spectre full-time. And now that the pesky regs were no longer in the way, he and Ash had finally acted on their unspoken feelings for each other.

In spite of his panic, he couldn't help but notice Ashley's taut, muscular body. Her shoulders and biceps were defined but still feminine. Her breasts were high and heavy. She had a stomach that flowed with rippling muscle into her prominent quads and then down to her strong calves. It was everything that he had fantasized about back during lonely nights in his old cabin on the _Normandy_.

She spoke into her hands. "John, please. You've had this dream before. Kaiden was the one who died on Vermire, remember?"

"I...no, it wasn't him. I gave you up. I sacrificed you." Shepard felt tears well up in his eyes. "May God damn me forever for that."

She took her hands away from her face, and now she looked stricken. "Shh, it's okay..." Ash reached out with strong, gentle arms and gathered him to her. She pressed his head into the nape of her neck. "Feel me. Does this feel like I'm dead?"

Shepard couldn't resist it. His arms went around her in a fierce hug and he sobbed with abandon into her neck. "Oh, God, Ash! Can you ever forgive me? I put a monument down for you and everything..."

Her hand rubbed through his short-cropped hair. "Shhh, Skipper. It's alright. I'm here now. You don't have to worry any more."

* * *

Murtock held Jack while she cried on the white tiled floor of the bathroom. "Damn it, NO!" she screamed. "I remember! I remember everything, I remember..." her voice trailed off. There was somebody she had to name. The naming was important. If she could do that, then everything would be clear.

His voice was calming, smooth as velvet. "You've had this dream before, baby. I'm getting worried. Maybe we should go talk to somebody?" His arms, those wonderfully tight and muscular arms, were around her. But it was wrong, all wrong. The love of her life wasn't this...fashion model. It was some beefy bastard with green eyes and an oft-broken nose. She knew that. She had him in her heart. She couldn't give up his name...just like he hadn't given up hers, even when he'd been in the middle of hell itself. She could figure it all out, if she could only _name_ him.

"Baaaaby..." Murtock's hands drifted over her body. The touch aroused her in spite of herself. "I can make you feel better. Let's go back to bed. I promise, you won't have to worry at all any more..."

* * *

Zaeed sat at his desk. He rubbed his face in his hands while Vido regarded him with increasing worry.

"Seriously, chief, are you okay?"

"No," Zaeed grated. "I've got two eyes that match and my face is back in one piece. Damn it, I have twenty years of memories after you shot me." He glared up at Vido. "I remember it all. Well, kind of. It's getting all fuzzy. What is going on?"

Vido smiled and shrugged. "No idea. All I know is, we had a little disagreement about the use of Batarian personnel, and I've seen the error of my ways. That's it. Maybe you just nodded off and had a weird dream? Look, we've got a large mercenary company to run. Shall we get on with it?"

Zaeed looked down and pressed his hands into the desk's surface. He couldn't deny it was very nice to be back here again. He remembered this desk so fondly, back when he was plotting Vido's horrific death and his reconquest of the Blue Suns. And now...now he was here, and Vido was here. And this was the Vido he remembered with pleasure, this was the comrade-in-arms who took care of all of the tedious paperwork that Zaeed couldn't be bothered with.

"I...guess so," he said. There was the faintest reluctance in his voice.

* * *

"With you, I will have to be more straightforward," said Warlord Okeer.

Grunt looked up. He was seated on a larger chunk of rubble in the midst of a large plain of broken debris. It was a standard vista on Tuchanka. There was the rattle of gunfire in the distance and a thick haze that hung over everything. Grunt regarded his creator, who stood before him with his hands clasped behind his back.

"You are not Okeer," said Grunt.

Not-Okeer nodded. "Correct. I have the accumulated memories of tens of thousands of humans within me. But I have nothing in the way of krogan memories. I cannot provide you with a sufficiently lifelike simulation as I can with the others. Instead, I have to rely on your own memories. You also have experience with imprinting while in Okeer's tank. That means that I cannot simply Indoctrinate you. As I said, I have to be more open and direct."

Grunt bared his teeth. "You are what we were just facing. You are the Human-Reaper."

Not-Okeer smiled. "Reaper? What a foolish name. I do not destroy. I create. I am the sum total of many thousands of humans. I am the greatest that they could ever hope to be."

Grunt stood and clenched his fists. "You are an abomination. I saw with my own eyes the pain that went into your creation. How can you justify that?"

"All birth involves pain. That is a law of the universe that not even my kind can disobey." Not-Okeer paused. "But I _am_ merciful. The three humans that accompany you have had more than their fair share of pain. Would it satisfy you to know that I will make their last moments of individuality pure bliss? I shall give them everything they could ever want...and then I will add them to myself."

"Zaeed. Jack. And Shepard." Grunt looked at the broken ground. "And what do you want of me? Why not simply kill me?"

"Because I have need of you. I am...incomplete. In my present form, I have enough power to gather more humans into myself. I do not need the Collectors, not anymore. However, I am physically vulnerable. Even one such as I has need of allies. And the Collectors are too few in number."

Grunt understood what Not-Okeer was driving at. "You need the krogan." He peered at the entity before him. "You are about to make an offer, correct?"

Not-Okeer smiled. "You are not as slow as some think. Yes, I propose an alliance. The krogan shall give me aid in helping me grow, and in return I shall cure the genophage."

Grunt felt the distant ghost of the true Okeer within him give a great cry of happiness. But he supressed it. "Your offer is false. I know your true goals. You will bring in more of your kind and destroy us all."

Not-Okeer patted him on the hump like a backward child. "A Cycle takes generations, my young friend. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of years. In that time, your people will achieve greatness by our side. And at the end, we will honor you by making your race into one of our own. The krogan shall live forever, all of you."

"We would live inside of an abomination!" yelled Grunt. He pointed a thick finger at Not-Okeer. "You destroy the individual! You smother all under the weight of your own twisted goals!"

Not-Okeer's face grew grim. "And you would throw in your lot with these so-called allies of yours?"

"Yes! Shepard is my Battlemaster. Jack is of my krantt, as is Zaeed. I will not abandon them."

The avatar reached out and grasped Grunt's shoulder. The movement was so sudden and violent that he could not prevent it. Grunt felt himself twisted around, and he saw...

He saw a mound...no, a _mountain_ of dead krogan.

It stretched out of his sight, both up into the gray sky as well as off to either side. He approached the mountain with growing dread. As he got closer, Grunt realized that it wasn't made of dead krogan. It was a mountain of dead krogan newborns. They lay twisted, as if their last moments had been in great pain. The ones he could see at the bottom were crushed and distorted under the weight of those above. Grunt felt a huge pang of grief. As he fell to his knees, a new body tumbled down from towards the top of that enormous pile. The tumbling child fell to the bottom, a little twitching sprog no bigger than his forearm. The newborn opened its eyes and gave him one last look of bewildered pain, and then it stopped moving.

Grunt dropped his head and looked away.

"You will look, damn your eyes!" hissed Not-Okeer from behind him. "You know all too well what the genophage truly means. THAT is what your beloved Battlemaster has done for you and your race! I see his mind. Mordin Solus revamped the genophage. The salarian doctor was instrumental in continuing this slaughter. And Shepard knew. He _knew_. Did he ever tell you? I know he did not."

Grunt raised his head in stunned disbelief. "No. He would not."

"He did. We have no secrets between us, Grunt. Not in this place. You know that."

Grunt buried his face in his forearms. "NO! HE WOULD NOT!" But deep down he knew that the Human-Reaper spoke the absolute truth.

* * *

EDI swung with two swords at once, smashing them into the Human-Reaper's brow and driving It back. The skull roared in pain. The sound made her feel a little better. It was clear that she couldn't kill It, but at least she could go 'toe-to-toe' with It, so to speak. She flowed into another attack position and stabbed at its flaming eyes.

With blinding speed, that sharp-toothed mouth snapped shut on her foot. EDI screamed in pain. The thing had suckered her, It had pretended to be hurt. She slashed one-two-three-four times and made It release her. She hobbled back, pointing all eight of her weapons at the Reaper and breathing hard. This was the hardest thing she had ever done, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on.

Its vacant razor grin taunted her.

 ** _YOU CANNOT WIN._**

* * *

"Come on, Skipper. Come to bed."

Shepard looked out over the balcony and tried to ignore Ash's firm, glorious breasts pressing against his bare back. Everything looked right. Everything felt as it should. The railing under his fingers had the solidity that he would expect. The apartment was in a section of the Presidium that he knew well. The vista was just what he should be seeing. But there were other memories...he remembered choking as the air bled out of his suit. He remembered somebody else. Somebody that he couldn't name for some reason, a sprightly presence with warm silver eyes. He had to name her. He knew it was important. He had made a promise.

"I was dead, Ash. I remember dying."

"A dream. Just a horrible nightmare. Isn't this better?" Her strong arms tightened around his stomach and slid lower. One of her nimble hands grasped his manhood. "Come to bed. I promise, I will make you feel better than you ever have in your life."

* * *

Murtock kissed Jack's neck and stroked one warm hand down her flank. "Baby, are you feeling better now?"

"Yes," she moaned. "But really, I remember you dying. I heard you die." It was so hard to think. She'd allowed Murtock to bring her back to bed, and he'd promptly set about getting her so damn horny. Her arousal made her babble. "And I was a convict. Everyone was hunting me. And I had killed a lot of people. I had...I had been hurt when I was a kid. It all seems so real."

"It was just a horrible dream, baby." His lips and tongue found one of her nipples and she cried out as he further stimulated her. He released her and raised himself up to smile down at her. "I promise, I will make you feel so good you won't remember any silly nightmares..."

* * *

"Hey Zaeed, do you remember that asari you were eyeing the other night at the club?"

He finished signing the last bit of paperwork and grinned at Vido. "As if I could forget that! I knew them blue women were limber, but _damn_!"

Vido gave a little waggly-eyebrow look. "I found out her name. And she's, heh, 'available', if you get my drift."

Zaeed laughed. "For the right price, I bet."

"Of course. And given that we've had a pretty good year, I thought you could use a little bonus."

The mercenary leaned back in his chair, stunned. "You mean...you didn't!"

Vido spread his hands. "Call it a peace offering, after our recent argument." His grin got wider. "She's in your rooms right now."

Zaeed couldn't do anything other than shake his head in amazement. He remembered it so clearly. A couple nights ago, they'd been in a...'gentleman's club'. And they had both been stunned into speechlessness by a tall vision in blue skin and red leather. Red leather that had then been slowly and seductively removed, leaving both him and Vido panting.

"Well shit, Vido. And here I didn't get you anything."

His partner gave a belly laugh. "Tell you what, chief, make my share of the profits an even fifty percent and we'll call it good."

Zaeed matched his laugh. "Done!" He stood up behind his desk and shook Vido's hand heartily. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have somebody to go and make friends with."

He hummed a happy tune as he walked down the hall to his bedroom suite. All was right in the world again.

* * *

EDI rolled out of the line of attack and crossed her swords in front of her. She was now operating on pure defense. She could only try to keep in the thing's way. It was toying with her, she knew that now. But she couldn't stop fighting and also couldn't take the time to panic. If It got past her, then It would be in the _Normandy's_ control systems.

 ** _YOU CANNOT STOP ME. THE CYCLES WILL CONTINUE._**

She didn't waste time in replying. One of her blades managed to score a hit on one cheekbone as she dodged a sudden charge. The 'pain' in her injured foot was getting worse; that sensation was probably due to some kind of Trojan program intended to infect her main decision matrix. EDI ignored the pain and kept fighting.

If this thing wanted the _Normandy's_ crew, It would have to tear her apart first.

* * *

Joker stood to one side as Sergeant Gardner opened the inner airlock door. The sergeant and ten others of the crew stood ready to receive the flood of incoming unconscious or wounded. And it was indeed a flood; once the door opened, Gardner was nearly bowled over by the number of people running in. There were unconscious people also handed in like so much firewood, and the crew jumped forward to get them down to the medbay.

The only one of the exit team who looked to be hurt was Legion. The geth was hobbling on one leg, supported by Tali on one side and Miranda on the other. As the rest of the exit team came through, Joker also saw Donnelly bringing up the rear. The engineer was naked as a jaybird except for a coating of slime on his skin and a bit of silver wrap around his waist.

"Marcus!" he yelled, his voice panicked.

Donnelly took one look at Joker's face and all but ran into the cockpit with a worried frown. "What's wrong?"

"Oriana needs help. We can't get the port thrusters working right. And right now that's the least of our problems."

Donnelly ran his fingers through his hair and then looked in disgust at the slime on his hand. "Give me the full situation."

"Shepard's dropped out of contact. Last we heard he was getting ready to set the base to blow up, but then there was some big commotion and he went off the air. I can't raise him. And EDI...she's not responding. I mean, _at all_. Even basic diagnostic queries just bounce right back. I don't know what's happening with her. All of her processing cycles are being used up, like she's really busy."

Donnelly breathed out. "Right, lad. We work the problem. Little bites at a time. I'll head down to Engineering and get the thrusters sorted. You keep trying to raise Shepard. And EDI...can we still operate if she's not working?"

Joker shrugged. "For basic stuff, yeah. I can fly us away from the base no problem. But she was the one running the IFF. If she's not working, we can't transit the relay back. At least, not if we want to come out the other side in one piece."

The engineer gave a grim smile. "Well, we'll just have to burn that bridge when we come to it."

* * *

"So now you see the truth about your allies." said Not-Okeer. "I, however, do not lie. I will never lie to you. Nor to any krogan."

Grunt pounded his fists into the rubble in front of him, making bits of gravel fountain up as if the ground was being hit with mortar fire. "No! There must be an explanation!"

"There is," admitted Not-Okeer. "They do not trust you. You are a tool for them. The humans, the asari, the turians, especially the salarians. They are all the same, even your precious Shepard. They wish to use your people as cannon fodder. But they also fear the krogan." Grunt felt Not-Okeer's hand clasp his shoulder in a comradely fashion. The Reaper's avatar swept his other hand towards the mountain of pain in front of them. "This is the result of that fear. But I do not offer fear. I offer the chance for vengeance."

Grunt breathed heavily. It was too much. He was a mere soldier. How could he be expected to make such a decision for his people? Shepard was his Battlemaster. He had sworn himself to the human's cause. But yet his Battlemaster had lied...or at least had not told Grunt the entire truth. Everything he knew was wrong.

And then he remembered Patriarch's words, back on Omega.

 _Someday, and may that day never come, you will have everything go wrong on you. And then you will realize the value in thinking things through before acting._

Grunt's anger and confusion stilled. Yes, this was sound advice. He continued kneeling and placed his hands gently on his thighs. He took in a deep breath to calm himself.

"What are you doing?" Not-Okeer sounded puzzled.

"I must think this through," replied Grunt, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Ash lay on top of him, stroking his sides with gentle hands that knew exactly where to touch him. Those dark, merry eyes smiled down at him. "Well, Skipper, since you're all fired up and awake we could go out afterward."

Shepard smiled and decided to play dumb. "After what?"

She nibbled his neck. "Don't make me hurt you, John. After I _fuck your brains out_ , we should go clubbing."

"Hmm, that sounds fun. Maybe some karaoke?" He trailed one hand down her back and cupped one of her firm rear cheeks.

She pulled her head back and gave him an exasperated look. "Oh, no. You are a fine and capable lover. Not to mention the deadliest person I've ever known. But you, John Shepard, can't dance _and_ you can't carry a tune in a bucket."

"Bucket." Shepard felt odd as he said the word. The word seemed to resonate in his head. It was tied with that dim memory of silver eyes and a promise he'd made. He had to remember it. Somehow he knew he had to.

"Skipper..." Ash breathed in his ear and ground herself against him. "No extraneous talk while on duty..."

* * *

Zaeed thought he was ready for what awaited him, but his breath was still taken away when he opened the door to his bedroom.

She lay on his large, four-poster bed. The alien was stretched out languorously and didn't have a single stitch of clothing on her. The asari's blue and ageless eyes regarded him with warm amusement. "I think one of us is overdressed. Wouldn't you agree?"

Her voice was...familiar. Which was odd, because he'd never heard her speak at the club. But Zaeed wasn't about to think too hard on it. He began to take his shirt off.

The asari arched her back like a cat, making those amazing tits of hers stand proudly up off of her chest. She gave a pleased hum as she watched Zaeed disrobe. "Mmmm...you're a big guy, aren't you? I always had a thing for humans with lots of muscles."

Zaeed got the rest of his clothes off in record time. He felt like launching himself right onto her and getting to work, but calmed himself at the last minute. The mercenary approached the bed almost like it was a holy shrine. "I'm very glad to hear that," he said. "I'm Zaeed. What's your name?" He settled himself beside her.

"Selya." Somehow he knew that wasn't right. Her name started with an 'S', but it was a different name. His hesitation was broken when she reached out a hand and grasped his hardness.

He groaned as she gently squeezed him. The asari rolled herself on top of him, pressing every part of her body against his. Her touch was like velvet. "Zaeed," she purred. "I promise I will make you so, so happy."

* * *

"Baby, did I ever tell you how much I love your body?"

Jack pulled Murtock into the nape of her neck and felt his teeth nip at her flesh. "All the time," she murmured. "But once more wouldn't hurt." Her mind was afire. The vague notion of having to remember somebody-or-other's name was fading fast. Those wonderful hands of his danced up outside her thighs as he lay on top of her.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he whispered in her ear. "And then we'll have a wonderful life together. Forever."

"Forever," she agreed, and tightened her arms around his neck. She could feel his greedy length pressing against her, and the sensation gave her that familiar liquid-fire feeling in her core. His hands slid underneath her to cup her buttocks.

"Your ass," he breathed. "Let's start there. You have an ass that anyone would kill for."

"Mmm, keep talking..." The word resonated in her mind. Ass. What a ridiculous word to fixate on, while she was in the middle of being ravished by her lover.

"We're bouncing around a bit, but let's move up to the eyes." His own eyes stared deep into hers. "Hazel, the color of fine scotch. Large, deep, eyes that a man could get lost in. And any man would want to wander forever inside of your eyes."

She giggled. "So now you think you're a poet, you ass?" Why was she fixating on that word?

"I'm not an ass, you little snot." He squeezed her rear. " _This_ is an ass. Michaelangelo would've painted it onto a ceiling, if he'd ever seen it."

The words clicked in her head.

And Jack remembered.

She remembered a man with a broken nose, with a scarred face, with kind green eyes. She remembered him telling her a 'wee story' about a time when he'd been soundly beaten. She remembered his words to her after that story.

 _You are not weak._

"Ass... _face_ ," she said aloud. "His name was Assface...no, that was my name for him."

"What?" Murtock looked confused, but she also caught a hint of worry in his eyes. It was as if he was a schoolboy that had been caught out in the middle of some huge lie.

She stared up at him as she spoke. "His real name was Marcus."

* * *

Grunt opened his eyes. "No." he said simply.

Not-Okeer tilted his creased and ancient headplate. A look of utter disbelief crossed his features. "What do you mean?"

"I reject your offer," said Grunt.

The fake warlord shoved his snout right into Grunt's face. "Are you mad? There is no other option. If you do not assist me, I will leave you to rot inside your own skull. Or perhaps I will just kill you outright."

"And then you will find some other person to help you, correct?" Grunt felt calm in the face of Not-Okeer's rage. He knew that the Human-Reaper would not strike him down yet. It would try once more to persuade him.

"Yes, I will. Perhaps even another krogan who understands the value of what I offer." Not-Okeer stood and pointed at the mountain of tiny corpses behind him. "You would allow this horror to continue? This is what your precious friends have wrought upon your people while lying to you."

"And all because of fear," said Grunt. "But what is the source of that fear?"

Not-Okeer actually looked baffled. Grunt tapped his own chest. "We are," he said to the Reaper's avatar. "Shepard did not tell me of Mordin's work on the genophage because he feared my response. He knew it would cause me pain. My Battlemaster treated me like a child. I do not take offense; in many ways I am still young. And in the same way, all krogan are like children. We do not take the time to think through our actions. We do not understand the true meaning of krantt."

"Krantt? What are you prattling about? I do not have time to waste with foolish adolescent rituals..."

"It is not foolish," interrupted Grunt calmly. "It means everything. I see it now. Shepard has shown me the true meaning of krantt, even if he does not call it such. I now have... _friends_. They stood by me as I faced the thresher maw. I have stood by them in their times of need. If the krogan had treated other species as _friends_ , as members of the same krantt, then they never would have feared us. There would have been no war, and no genophage."

Not-Okeer seemed to swell and grow, and his visage became even more stormy. "You fool. If you do not obey me, you know I will kill you."

Grunt just smiled and remained kneeling.

* * *

Murtock looked a little panicked. "Baby, I told you, it was just a dream." She tried to worm her way out from under him, but he clamped his hands down on her wrists and held out her arms with a strength far greater than any human's. His voice became frantic. "Just let me make you feel good, okay?"

Jack bared her teeth. "You fucker. I remember it all now. You're the goddamn Reaper, aren't you?" Before he could reply, she gathered herself mentally. "And if it _was_ just a dream, explain how I can do _this_."

A blue wave of energy exploded out of her, throwing Not-Murtock up and off of her. He banged against the far wall.

Jack stood. The rage flowed through her and it felt like an old friend, bright and lovely and strong. She could _feel_ the tattoos flowing along her skin like black liquid as they re-formed on her body. There was the briefest bit of prickling pain from her back as her scars reappeared.

She looked up and screamed.

"BOSS! CAN YOU HEAR ME? REMEMBER THE BUCKETHEAD!"

Not-Murtock stood, apparently no worse for wear in spite of Jack's throw. "I was going to make you happy, you bitch," he snarled, and charged at her.

* * *

"Bucket _head_." Shepard said the word right as Ash angled her hips and made ready to engulf his member.

She stopped and gave him a wry look. "That's your idea of sexy talk, Skipper?"

"Buckethead." He said the word again, looking at Ash's face. There was something there, a little flicker of fear. "That's what Jack calls...Tali."

"Who's Jack?" Ash's face was back to just looking puzzled, but it was like seeing a mask slip back into place. "And Tali...you mean the quarian who was on the _Normandy_?"

It all clicked. Tali. Shepard seeing her face for the first time. The feel of her warm gray body in his arms. His promise to come back to her.

Shepard didn't waste time in accusations. He shoved Ash hard, throwing her to the side and scrambling to get off of the bed.

Her hand clamped onto his ankle like a vise. Shepard kicked back with his free foot and connected solidly with Ash's jaw. The blow felt like it had hit flesh and bone and it snapped her head around, but it didn't seem to have any real effect on her. She just turned back and smiled at him.

"Fine, I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way," said Not-Ash.

* * *

Not-Murtock was faster than any human, and much stronger than her. He flew at Jack like a missile, an attack that no human could possibly counter.

It didn't matter, because by now Jack was _properly_ pissed.

She held up one hand and Not-Murtock was frozen mid-charge in a corona of blue light. Jack clenched her upraised fist, glaring at the thing in front of her. Then she spun around and made a pitching motion with her hand. Not-Murtock was promptly thrown through the other wall. As he hit, the drywall smashed and broke apart into pieces that crumbled into dust and then into nothingness. Beyond that wall was nothing but a gray corridor.

The thing with Murtock's face growled and picked itself up. Just as it got back upright, it was grabbed again with her power. Jack began using Not-Murtock like a blue-tinted wrecking ball. She smashed him into various walls, reducing the fake apartment into gray rubble.

She started screaming in time with each smash. "You. Don't. Fuck. Ing. Scare. Me. You. Mother. FUCKER."

Gray shards flew around her as her surroundings were pulverized. With her last scream she gave one great heave and threw Not-Murtock as hard as she could up through the ceiling. The illusion around her blew apart, revealing an endless off-white fog above her. Around her was what looked like an endless maze of gray halls.

Not-Murtock winked out of existence as it flew into the fog. A huge voice sounded around her.

 ** _YOU CANNOT WIN. THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM HERE._**

Jack snarled into the void above her. "You think you can take me, you asshole? I've kicked Death Herself in the _tits_."

She had to see if she could get in contact with the others. Fortunately she was really good at yelling.

* * *

Selya's hands were busy, and so were Zaeed's. His mind swam with the glorious sensations he was feeling. Then she suddenly looked a little distracted. Zaeed stroked her crest with one free hand. "Hey, now. I hope I'm not boring you, darlin'."

Her face got back its smile. "Sorry, dear. I just had a random thought in my head, you know how it is."

"Of course." He brought his head up to kiss her when he heard a feminine voice shout in his head.

 _-...Boss! Zaeed! Grunt! Can any of you hear...-_

"What?" He pulled back. "Did you say somethin'?"

"Me? No." Was it his imagination, or did she look a little panicked?"

"You didn't say 'grunt' just now?"

Selya laughed, a lovely liquid sound that delighted his ears. "You silly thing..."

"Grunt." Why did that word resonate with him?

* * *

Shepard heard her as well. "JACK!" he yelled, only to have Not-Ash's forearm jam down on his throat with inhuman strength. He croaked and tried again to throw her off. But she had him pinned to the bed, and he couldn't get the right leverage. His vision began to blur, and he felt panic rise in him.

Not-Ash smiled wide, her mouth stretching open like a snake's. "Now, Skipper, this is going to happen whether you want it or not. You might as well enjoy it." Something dark and squirming began to worm its way out of that too-wide mouth...

He remembered his confrontation with Morinth. The thought of Tali had saved him then, and he tried it again this time. None of this was real, after all. It was just some sort of damn illusion. And besides, he had made Tali a promise to come back.

He managed to worm one of his hands under the arm on his throat. Shepard had always been strong, and after being rebuilt by Cerberus he was stronger than any human. Certainly stronger than some punk-ass Reaper illusion.

Shepard's hand began, ever so slowly, to push Not-Ash's arm up off of him. The look of sudden panic in 'her' eyes gave him new strength. He could breathe again. And then he heard Jack's voice again.

 _-...get pissed, you motherfuckers!...-_

It was like a dam broke in him. Any remaining fear was swept away by a sudden and perfect rage. "You fucking DARE?" he screamed into the face of the thing above him. He slammed one knee up into her ribs, and Not-Ash flew off of him like she'd been shot from a cannon.

Shepard stood. The room around him was already breaking down, turning into a gray maze. Not-Ash rose to her feet only to receive Shepard's fist in her face. The rage-fueled blow went right through her head, and the illusory human crumbled into gray dust at his feet.

"You fucking DARE to WEAR HER FACE?" he roared. Then he marched right up to one of the gray walls and punched a hole through it. He didn't take any turns or try to find his way through the maze. Shepard just kept smashing and moving, leaving a linear swath of destruction behind him. As he moved, he yelled.

"JACK! GRUNT! ZAEED! FRONT AND CENTER!"

* * *

Oriana gripped her scalp and tried not to panic. She'd double- and triple-checked the fuses on anything to do with the port thrusters. They hadn't missed any, everything was there. But she couldn't find the problem. And now half her diagnostic programs had gone down, because EDI was offline or tied up or something.

She pounded both fists down on the main console's controls in frustration.

"Now, lass, I don't think that'll help," said a familiar voice from behind her.

She spun and saw Donnelly come striding into Engineering wearing some kind of silver skirt and nothing else. A great relief rose in her chest, both at seeing him return as well as having somebody else to help her.

"Marcus! Shouldn't you be in the medbay?"

He shook his head. "Not now. We've gotta get our poor bairn healthy again. Give me the situation."

She turned back to the console. "I keep getting this fluctuation in the control circuits for the port thrusters. It all works at low power, but it'll blow again if we try for full thrust."

"And we need full thrust to get outta here," mused Donnelly. "I'm assuming you've replaced any blown fuses or breakers?"

She nodded. "Of course, but maybe something else got knocked loose? We hit the base pretty hard during the crash. Nothing appeared to be damaged apart from the fuses and such. I've got as many crew as we can spare going through the access tunnels and tracing everything, but they haven't found anything so far."

Marcus closed his eyes as he stood beside her. He swayed a bit, and Oriana put out a hand to steady him. He nodded his thanks. "You had a _total_ power loss?" he asked her.

"Yeah, but we got everything back up and running fine."

"How long were the port control circuits shut down?"

"About seventy-three minutes."

" Only 'about'? Heh. Yeah, that would be long enough."

She felt that initial hope rise some more. "You have an idea."

"Maybe, lass. Can you open a channel to Joker?"

* * *

Joker tapped his hands in a fast rhythm on his arm rests. He half expected Pat to ask him to stop, but she was still off helping with repairs. And EDI...now that EDI wasn't responding, Joker was surprised at how much he missed her.

The comm crackled. "Joker?" asked Donnelly's voice.

"Yeah, you got it fixed?"

"There's nothin' to fix."

"Shit. So we're dead?"

"I didn't say that, I said there was nothing mechanically wrong. Now I want you to set the port thrusters' impulse power to zero and then turn them on."

Joker's hands were already in motion as he replied to the engineer. "Done, then what?"

"Then we wait."

"What? How does that help?"

He could hear the amusement in Donnelly's voice. "You were completely shut down for over an hour and sitting on the outside of a space station. The control linkages were just cold, is all. They needed a chance to warm up. Ten minutes or so should be plenty of time."

Joker couldn't believe it was that simple. "That's all it was?"

"Well, me lad, not _everything_ has to result in me crawlin' around outside the ship like a wee daft ant."

* * *

 _-...Zaeed! Front and Center!...-_

Zaeed started in surprise. It was like a switch had been flipped in his mind. This wasn't real, none of it was real. Vido really was a traitorous piece of shit, Zaeed really had been shot in the head, and now this goddamn Reaper was messing with his mind.

He looked at 'Selya' above him. The asari was rubbing herself along his groin with a sultry look and clearly getting ready to literally fuck his brains out.

"Samara, not Selya," he said aloud. "You took her face. You're that goddamn thing we were fighting."

Faster than he could blink, Not-Samara had his arms pinned to the bed. "Does it matter, _baby_?" she crooned. Her face was very close to his. "I read your mind. I know you lusted after her. Why not give in? Indulge your fantasies. I'll make you feel so good..."

Her grip was strong, far stronger than he could believe. He had time for one yell...

"SHEPARD! OVER HERE!..."

...and then Not-Samara's mouth muffled his. He felt something larger than a tongue force its way into his mouth...

The side of the room evaporated in a huge explosion of gray dust. Not-Samara was picked up off of him by a wave of blue energy and then unceremoniously slammed into the other wall.

Zaeed scrambled off of the bed and crouched with his fists up, ready to fight whatever hellish monster was beyond that hole. The 'hellish monster' turned out to be Jack. She winked at him as she came stepping through. "Hey, dude. Nice outfit." She wore a familiar nasty smile on her face...and nothing else.

He hurriedly snatched his eyes away from her lithe body. She was young enough to be his granddaughter, fer chrissake. Unfortunately, his averted gaze happened to be directed downwards at his similarly nude form. "Er, yeah. Well. I noticed you're wearin' your birthday suit as well."

Not-Samara coughed and rose to her feet. Her teeth were bared in an inhumanly wide snarl. "You will never find your way out of here-" began Not-Samara, but she was rudely interrupted by a bare muscular arm that punched through the wall beside her. The illusory asari had time to give one brief look of panic before the arm clamped around her neck and dragged her bodily through the wall, creating a new hole as it did so.

There were a few wet crunching sounds from beyond the new hole, and then Shepard stepped through. He was quite deficient in the clothes department as well.

Zaeed shook his head. "First Chiefy and the others, and now us. Seems like it's a day for everybody to be runnin' around in the altogether."

Jack didn't say anything. She leaned back with folded arms and gave Shepard an appreciative up-and-down appraisal. The Commander shifted his feet in embarrassment and put his hands over his groin. He tried to make the groin-covering look casual, and failed utterly.

Jack shook her head in bemusement. "Story of my life. I finally get to see the Super Boy Scout in all of his glory, and it's only in my goddamn head."

"Er, we should get moving," Shepard said.

"Yeah, speaking o' which, how _do_ we get out of here?" asked Zaeed. He'd mirrored Shepard's crotch-covering stance.

Jack on the other hand, seemed to be completely unfazed by her own nudity. She shrugged with one hand on her hip. "Fuck if I know. Click our heels three times or something?"

"Grunt," said Shepard. "Grunt must be in here too. We need to find him first."

Three voices called out as one. "GRUNT!"

* * *

Grunt smiled with his eyes still closed. "My friends call. I will go to them."

"You cannot," boomed Not-Okeer. "You are trapped in your own mind, just as they are trapped. You will not be able to communicate."

Grunt opened his eyes. Not-Okeer was now almost twice Grunt's size, and his huge mouth gaped open to reveal needle-sharp fangs.

"Then I shall leave," replied Grunt.

"What makes you think you can?"

"Because there is a gun in my hand."

Grunt closed his eyes again. He let the sensations around him flow through his mind. He ignored most of them. The scent of concrete dust and diesel fuel, the distant rumble of guns firing...these were illusions, put into his mind by this abomination. Most of his senses were filled with such nonsense. The heavy breathing of the false krogan in front of him sounded loud in his ears. There was a tang in the back of his throat, probably vapor from some plastic explosive nearby.

...there was the feel of a weapon's handle in his hand...

Grunt knew that was the truth. He tightened his grip on that handle and concentrated on the sensation. It was the gun that Jacob had made for him. Jacob had even gotten himself injured in making and testing it, all so that Grunt could be properly armed.

Jacob was his friend. They were all his friends, everyone everywhere was his friend, even if they didn't know it yet. And all of his friends needed his help, so Grunt had to wake himself up.

He knew he'd fallen to the right of his comrades, and that the shotgun pointed in a safe direction. He could feel under one finger the gun's trigger, and squeezed it. The shock of the weapon's firing jarred his arm, and the sensation made him more able to focus on reality. Two more shots, and he knew the barrel of the gun would be blazing hot by now.

And so he reached over and grasped the shotgun with his other hand.

The sudden, searing pain made the illusion around him wash away. His own roar of anguish sounded loud in his ears.

Grunt opened his eyes.

He was sprawled flat on the ledge in the control center of the Collector base. His shotgun was still clamped in one paw, and the other hand had, thankfully, let got of the barrel. He looked up. The Human-Reaper still towered over them, its mouth still agape and emitting that horrible blue light.

He pushed up with his burned hand, and got one leg under himself. He drove the leg down with the slow and unstoppable movement of a hydraulic piston, levering himself upright under the enormous weight of the Reaper's attempt to regain its hold on his mind.

He heard an almost despairing bellow from deep in his brain as he stood up straight before it.

 ** _HOW? HOW CAN YOU STAND?_**

The chamber was very still while Grunt gave his quiet reply.

"Because I am krogan. Because the very stones of Tuchanka give me strength. And because _all_ are of my krantt."

The blood-rage surged through him like liquid joy as Grunt charged.

That charge was deceptively slow-looking, in much the same way that a runaway train doesn't look like it's going all that fast...until it starts smashing through everything in its path. Grunt roared again, this time in fury. His huge feet hammered against the slick, organic surface of the ledge as he looked at the Reaper's head and picked his target. He timed it just right as he reached the edge and was able to give one last huge push with one leg.

Grunt sailed out into space, a blue-and-silver missile aimed right at the Reaper's face. He drew one of his knives as he flew and clasped it tight in his burned hand. The pain only served to invigorate him. The gleaming skull rocked as he slammed into it, and Grunt jammed the knife deep into a crevice next to the Reaper's eye socket. As if in slow motion, he saw one of the Reaper's hands begin to reach up towards him. The thing was trying to remove this annoying pest from its face. Grunt gave a booming laugh, brought his other hand up, and discharged the OMFG point-blank into the thing's red and glaring eye.


	50. If I Have To Go

One of the skull's flaming eyes winked out as It roared in agony. EDI hobbled to the side as she felt the pain from Its attack radiating further up her leg. That Trojan program must be getting a better foothold in her, but she couldn't take the time to properly 'heal' herself. It seemed that something had hurt It. But yet EDI was wary. She'd been fooled once before; this might be another trap.

She flicked her blades in front of her as she circled It. But the Reaper's avatar seemed to be ignoring her for the moment. It was thrashing Itsself around like a man trying to get rid of an annoying mosquito.

EDI kept all of her swords pointed forwards as she crept towards Its back while It jerked around.

* * *

Shepard opened his eyes and heard the sound of mechanical screaming, like a dreadnought was being torn in half. On pure instinct, he rolled to one side and cradled the particle beam weapon against his chest. Something huge and metallic slammed down right where he'd been. Shepard wasted no time in rolling up to one knee and taking aim.

Grunt hung to the face of the Human-Reaper by one arm as the huge being shook its head. The krogan had his mouth open and was apparently roaring in rage while trying his damnedest to get his gun into the other eye next to him. Grunt's yelling was drowned out by the hideous metallic scream from the Reaper.

One of the Reaper's arms was smashed into the ledge where Shepard had lain. Its other hand was still clamped on the edge of the ledge.

"Jack! Zaeed! Can you hear me?" Shepard could barely hear himself over the Reaper, let alone any response. First things first, then. The damn thing did appear to be vulnerable in the eyes after all. He brought up the beam weapon and tried to aim at the eye socket opposite Grunt. The white ray stabbed out and dug in a little at the edge of the socket. He quickly fanned it into the socket and saw one of the eyes inside it explode. The thing twitched its head away, preventing him from getting that socket's other eye and making Grunt flail around like a flag in a gale-force wind. Shepard saw Grunt's OMFG spin away and fall like a stone into the endless depths below.

The Reaper's remaining eyes twitched down and regarded Shepard with pure red hate. The Commander felt his teeth bared in a war smile as he aimed again.

Before he could make another shot, there was a huge _boom_ to his left, from behind the metal arm. The outer eye that Shepard was aiming at simply vaporized under the force of Zaeed's explosive round. The Reaper's arm scythed away from Shepard as it tried to smash everything on the other side of the ledge. He saw Jack leap back and clear of the huge flailing limb, followed by Zaeed's yellow-armored form.

Zaeed didn't quite make it in time. A metal finger as big around as a telephone pole smashed into his side. The mercenary tumbled away and landed face-down. He didn't move.

Shepard couldn't take the time to run over and check on Zaeed. He turned again and tried to take aim at the Reaper. There was one eye left, but he couldn't take a chance at shooting it. Grunt was still swinging around in front of it, and he would almost certainly hit the krogan.

"JUMP, GRUNT!" he screamed, hoping somehow to be heard over the wails of the injured Reaper. But the krogan didn't respond; Grunt now appeared to be trying to _punch_ out the Reaper's last eye.

* * *

EDI lunged and sank three blades deep into the back of Its skull. She released them and left them embedded within bone as it spun to face her. But it was almost blind; the fires in Its eyes were now nearly gone. She easily evaded Its next wild charge, and took the time to plan her kill.

She feinted left but went right. It took the bait. For one second, Its temple was completely exposed. EDI did not waste time with any last-minute verbal gloating. Her blades flashed like lightning as she struck home.

* * *

The Human-Reaper jerked, and its huge scream cut off like a thrown switch. It stopped its thrashing for a moment. Shepard drew in a breath and yelled again.

"GRUNT! JUMP OFF!"

Miraculously, the krogan actually obeyed. Grunt let go of whatever was holding him onto the thing's face and pushed off with his legs. The krogan fell forward towards the ledge as Shepard held his breath and went into accelerated mode.

Everything slowed. Grunt's falling form seemed to creep downwards, as if he was moving through thick syrup. The Reaper's remaining eye stood out in stark contrast to its dead twin next to it. Shepard took careful aim. He couldn't just wave the beam around; if it hit Grunt it would probably bisect him. He also couldn't miss. He had to kill it, here and now.

"This is for Ash, motherfucker," he snarled, and fired.

He didn't miss. The white beam speared across space separating him from the Reaper, and he knew that his aim had been true. The red eye exploded in a slow blossom of fire as the beam struck home and continued through the eye, deep into the thing's skull. The Human-Reaper's hand began to let go of the ledge, and its lifeless body began to slowly fall.

Shepard's triumph was short-lived. He shifted his attention to Grunt and realized that the krogan was not going to reach the ledge. He drove himself forward, willing his accelerated speed to allow him to reach the krogan in time to help. Maybe he could reach out and grab Grunt's hand...

But then his acceleration ended, and Shepard sprawled onto his front as he snapped back into normal time. He raised his head just in time to meet Grunt's eyes as the krogan fell below the lip of the ledge.

"NO!" He somehow got the strength to get up and keep moving forward even though his limbs felt like lead. "Not him! He's just a kid!"

Shepard fell to his knees as he reached the lip. He saw the chromed corpse of the Human-Reaper still falling into the seemingly endless deep below them. His panicked eyes darted around, looking for Grunt. He didn't see the krogan...and then he looked directly down.

Grunt hung by a knife he'd jammed into a crack in the biomechanical cliff face. The krogan was about five meters down from the edge. He looked up at Shepard and grinned. "I was wise to bring two knives, Battlemaster."

"Grunt!" he yelled in relief. "Holy shit, okay, just hang on..." He looked around in a panic. Zaeed was badly hurt, but Grunt was in mortal danger. He didn't have any way to get Grunt back up. Maybe he could use the straps from his weapons to create a makeshift rope? No, that wouldn't be long enough. He looked up at Jack as the biotic came running up. "Jack, we gotta get to him. We need something long, like a rope..."

Jack raised one eyebrow. "Hello? Biotic here? Can pick up shit with my mind? I'll take care of Grunt, you go look after Zaeed."

Shepard's panic switched off. "Oh, right. Shit." He didn't even look back as he ran towards the crumpled form in yellow armor. He stripped off one glove and reached down. The merc still had a pulse at least. He looked down. No obvious wounds, but Zaeed had taken a hell of a hit. There might be internal damage. He had to take the chance and move the man.

Zaeed groaned as Shepard rolled him over on his back. "Fuck. That hurt almost as much as getting shot in the head."

"Zaeed? Listen, we're getting you out of here, just hang on."

The mercenary looked up with a smile that twisted his scarred face. "You should probably set the base to blow first."

Shepard took a deep breath. His brain was all over the place, he had to calm himself. "Right. You're right. Just wait here and don't die."

Fortunately the control console hadn't been smashed during the Human-Reaper's death throes. He jogged up to it as he realized he should contact the _Normandy_ before doing anything else.

He heard Joker's voice as soon as he activated the comm. "Do you copy? Commander? Come on, Shepard, don't leave me hanging. Do you copy?"

"We're here, Joker."

"Thank the fucking gods. Good to hear you, sir."

"Good to be heard. What's the ship's status?"

EDI's voice cut in. "We have solved the issue with the port thrusters. I am also detecting no further signals from the Reaper. It is quite dead. However, I am detecting some motion deep in the base. I believe it is Collector reinforcements that have finally managed to burn through those blast doors. Estimate fifteen minutes before they reach your position."

He quickly thought through the path that he'd seen earlier on his map. "I can get us near the hull in less than ten minutes, but I'm not sure if there's a direct exit."

"We'll get the _Normandy_ there, Commander," said Joker. "And blow a hole if need be."

"Okay, sending you the coordinates now. I'm setting the reactor to blow in fifteen minutes, so if we don't make it back you need to get the hell out of here."

"Understood, Shepard," replied EDI. "Good luck. Logging out."

Half of an N7's training involves covert ops and improvisation. A big part of that improvisation is how to make things go wrong in an explosive fashion. That training, coupled with EDI's clear and concise instructions, meant that it took Shepard only a couple of minutes to set the Collector's reactor to blow. He set a timer for fifteen minutes right after making the last connection, and then jogged back over to the rest of the team.

Grunt stood over Jack and Zaeed. Jack had propped up the mercenary into a sitting position, and looked up at Shepard as he ran up. Her usual sardonic look was gone; she looked genuinely worried. Grunt's face was also set in concern.

"He can't move his legs," she said.

"Spinal injury, I bet," rasped Zaeed.

Shepard breathed out. "Shit. It's okay, we'll fix you up. But we gotta go. In fifteen minutes we get swarmed with Collectors right before this whole place turns into vapor."

"You're leavin' me here," said Zaeed with finality.

"No, I-"

"Shepard, listen," said the mercenary. His face looked oddly calm. "I'll just slow you down. You know I will. And if the Collectors show up early I can make sure they don't cancel the detonation. I know you wanna live up to your last name. I know you wanna bring us all home. Me, I'm already home. Fightin' and killin' on the battlefield is what I live for. I always figgered on dyin' with my boots on. We got fifteen people rescued, plus our own crew back. One life for nineteen is a goddamn good trade."

While Zaeed spoke, he fished a half-smoked cigar out of a pouch followed by a battered lighter. He lit the cigar and blew out a great cloud of smoke. "So get the fuck out of here. Tell Chiefy to get good an' stinking drunk for me. An' give Jessie a proper Viking funeral, okay?"

Jack and Grunt looked at Shepard. The krogan looked even more impassive, and Jack's eyes were wet.

The Commander crossed his arms. "Are you done?"

"What?" Zaeed looked puzzled.

"Because we need to be leaving. And that means all of us leave. Grunt, would you mind?" He gestured at Zaeed.

The krogan nodded with a huge grin. He picked up the mercenary and slung his yellow-clad body over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Zaeed's cigar and lighter clattered onto the ledge as he yelped in surprise.

"Shepard, damnit-"

The Spectre's voice was still calm. "Like I said, Zaeed. All of us or none of us. And I mean what I say. You should know that by now."

Shepard sprinted over and grabbed his beam weapon before the four of them ran from the chamber. Well, three of them ran. One of them bounced on a krogan's shoulder and trailed a stream of curses that would make an Alliance Marine go pale.

* * *

Harbinger's voice resounded around them as they ran. "HUMAN. YOU'VE CHANGED NOTHING."

"Fuck me, he does like to talk," muttered Jack.

Shepard gave a short, gasping laugh. "He does at that."

"YOUR SPECIES HAS THE ATTENTION OF THOSE INFINITELY YOUR GREATER."

A huge rumble nearly threw them off their feet. "Joker?" asked Shepard.

"Sorry, Commander. Just giving you a more direct route. We thought you could use it."

There was the clicking of a few remaining Collectors behind them. Shepard turned and casually cut the stragglers in half. "I'm really beginning to like this gun," he said to nobody in particular.

"WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY."

"And we'll be waiting, you son of a bitch!" yelled Shepard. He turned and ran after the others. They came to a huge hole that had been torn into the side of the corridor. The edges still smoked slightly. Beyond the hole was a tunnel with melted edges, and beyond that was the white shape of the _Normandy_. Her hull was now far from pristine. There were gouges in the paint and scorch marks all over her surface. But it was the most beautiful thing Shepard had seen in a while.

More clicking came from behind them. Shepard gestured at the others. "Go!" Jack and Grunt ran down the tunnel towards the ship while Zaeed continued to explore the depths of his vocabulary. Shepard switched into accelerated time and shot the six Collectors chasing them. But beyond those enemies was a black moving wall of Seekers that was heading right for him. He muttered a curse himself and then ran down the tunnel. He heard the chittering of the biomechanical insects close behind him.

Ahead of Shepard, Jack gestured. A long piece of debris was surrounded by a blue field and then floated over to span the gap between the exit of the tunnel and the airlock of the _Normandy_. Grunt and Zaeed were first across the improvised bridge, followed by Jack. As Shepard ran up, a tremor ran through the base as the reactor began to go into its own death spiral. The piece of scrap fell away, leaving a large gap between the mouth of the tunnel and the airlock. He looked up and saw Jack and Grunt's panicked faces in the airlock. He couldn't stop to find another piece of junk. If he did, the Seekers would be on him in no time.

He focused all of his attention on the edge of the tunnel. He had to time this just right. As he pounded up to the gap, he leaped at the last possible second. Shepard wasn't in accelerated mode, but time still seemed to slow to nothing as the lip of the _Normandy's_ airlock edged ever closer. He wasn't going to make it, his hand was going to be short by mere inches...

Grunt's meaty paw clamped onto Shepard's wrist at the same time that he was surrounded by a blue glow. The combined krogan-and-biotic yank all but smashed him into the inner airlosck door. Jack yelled "ALL IN!"

The outer door closed. They slewed away from the base as the _Normandy_ got ready to run like hell.

"Hang on, folks!" yelled Joker over the intercom. "I'm flooring it, so this is gonna be rough!"

* * *

"I AM RELEASING CONTROL."

The Collector Chieftan looked down at its manipulators in puzzlement. For the first time in...ever, it had no commands resounding in its head. The insectoid alien clicked and looked around the small room, then up at the holographic tank in front of it.

The image of something resembling a robotic cuttlefish met its gaze. "YOU HAVE FAILED US," said Harbinger, and then its image winked out.

The Chieftan was at an utter loss. What was it supposed to do now? Its masters had left them. But then the Chieftan rallied itself. It had to take stock, get its subordinates together, and see what resources they had. They still had a base. The Collectors could rebuild and begin the great work again. Once they had a new _gestalt_ entity under construction, then they could try and re-contact their masters. The Old Ones would see the Collectors' worth and welcome them back...

Its planning was interrupted by a wall of superheated plasma moving at nearly the speed of light.

* * *

Behind the fleeing _Normandy_ , there was a bright light that for a moment outshone the galactic core. The delta shape of the frigate winked off into FTL flight before the shockwave could reach it.

And inside her main airlock, Zaeed glared up at Shepard's relieved and smiling face.

"You owe me a new lighter, asshole."

* * *

After what they'd just been through, the transit back through to the Omega Four relay was almost routine. EDI was able to activate the IFF without a hitch, and was also able to get even more data on the relay network behavior during the transit.

Shepard and the others made their way down to the medbay. Access panels gaped open and cables still hung everywhere in the corridors. During the field repairs to the _Normandy_ , the crew hadn't bothered with aesthetics.

A good chunk of the crew as well as all of the exit team were in the mess. Shepard was surprised to see the four rescued crew also in the mess. All four had been cleaned up and given coveralls to wear. Everyone looked up as they came around the corner. Zaeed dangled in Grunt's arms, and his mismatched eyes glared at them as they all rose to their feet in concern.

"Fer chrissakes," he growled. "Sit down or I'll make ya. One little spinal injury an' everyone goes to fuckin' pieces."

They all sat as Grunt continued on into the medbay. Through the medbay's windows, Shepard saw the krogan set Zaeed down on a bed indicated by Dr. Chakwas. She immediately began removing his armor while the krogan stood nearby. The Commander also noted that the other rescuees were stretched out on the floor of the medbay.

Jack stumbled over to Donnelly and sat in his lap as she embraced him. "Don't think that us bein' tired is gonna get you out of sexy-time duties, Assface. I just punched a Reaper in the nads with my brain, so I'm horny as fuck."

The engineer just chuckled and stroked her shaved scalp. The man looked about ready to pass out. Hell, they all did.

Shepard slumped into an available seat. He looked around and realized there were a few of the exit team missing. One of them in particular he wanted to see. "Where's Tali?"

Garrus had Kasumi in his lap as well. She'd apparently fallen asleep, so he very gently indicated the medbay. "In the AI core. Legion got banged up during the exit, so Tali volunteered to repair him."

If it had been anyone other than Tali, Shepard would have simply nodded and then passed out in his chair. But he hauled himself back up with a little groan and made his way into the medbay. He noticed that Grunt was already curled up and asleep next to the door.

Dr. Chakwas looked up and gave him a curt nod as he walked through. He knew it wasn't rudeness on her part, she was just focused on fixing Zaeed. The mercenary gave him an embarrassed "Shepard," as he passed. Shepard smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

Lucy and Sheila now also wore some coveralls. They were apparently tending to the other unconscious captives from Imorkan, who were laid out towards the rear of the medbay on inflatable mattresses. Sheila looked up as Shepard walked by. "It's done?" she asked.

Shepard paused his walk. "Done and dusted," he replied. "That fucking place is now just its component atoms."

Lucy shook her head in disbelief. "I finally realized who you are. You're _that_ Shepard. I thought you were dead."

He shrugged. "I got better."

Sheila smiled. "Well, Commander, let us know if you ever are in the need for some company. No charge, ever."

Shepard gave an exhausted laugh. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm spoken for."

The door to the AI core hissed open, and Shepard walked through. Legion was stretched out on the same bench they'd had him on before activating him. Tali was digging in the depths of his leg and muttering. Oriana hovered over them both, handing tools to the quarian as requested.

Legion's head-light twitched over to look at him. "Shepard-Commander. It is good to see you operational."

Tali nearly dropped a probe as she spun around. "John!" Shepard was nearly knocked off of his feet by Tali's resulting pounce. She wrapped her legs around his hips and clamped her arms around his neck. "You little _bosh'tet_ ," she muttered in his ear. "No problem, you said. You didn't mention having to fight a damned Reaper."

"It was a bit of a surprise to us too," he responded as he hugged her back just as fiercely. He noticed that one of EDI's boxes had scorch marks on it. It appeared that the connections to its neighbors had been hacked apart. "Er, EDI? What is that?" He pointed one hand at the damaged processor.

The AI sounded smug. "I was attacked with a Trojan code by the Human-Reaper during your fight with it. I was able to shunt the code into one processor unit, and had Tali physically isolate it. This will allow me to study it safely and develop some countermeasures."

"It's the first real piece of Reaper code we've been able to capture," said Tail. Her voice was almost slurred with her exhaustion as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Creator-Tali'Zorah," said Legion. "Repairs to this platform can be postponed. Platform integrity not in jeopardy."

"Seriously, you both need some sleep," added Oriana. "I can take over the repairs from here. Legion can guide me."

He felt Tali relax against him. "If you're okay with it..." she said, a little hesitantly.

Oriana met Shepard's eyes, and she smiled. "Commander, get her out of here. She's about to pass out on her feet anyway."

Shepard nodded. "We all are, I think."

He walked back through the medbay with Tali still curled around him. Her helmeted head was already nodding against his shoulder as she fought to stay awake. Shepard noted with amusement that Lucy and Sheila were sleeping next to Grunt. One of them had placed a blanket over the sleeping krogan's bulk. Zaeed was also zonked out and now face-down while Dr. Chakwas ran a scanner over his back.

"How is he?" asked Shepard.

The doctor gave a slight shrug. "He's stable. I'll need to do a full scan to determine how much nerve damage there is. He's looking at four months at least for repair and rehabilitation."

Shepard smiled. "Oh, he's gonna love hearing that. What about the people we rescued? Mordin mentioned something about Collector nanomachines."

Dr. Chakwas pointed a thumb back and up towards Mordin's lab. "He's working on isolating them. But my understanding is that they're pretty well harmless by now. You should talk to him."

"I will." Shepard looked back at the unconscious former captives. "Um, what about them?"

"Mordin's got them in a medically induced coma. He figured it was safer for them that way. They're not in physical danger, but their mental state is unknown. And neither Mordin or myself are experts on mental trauma."

"Hmm. Do you know who is?"

"Our best bet is to head for the Citadel. I know a couple of therapists there who are first rate."

"That sounds good. I have to report to the Council anyway. I'll leave you to it."

* * *

"Shepard!" cried Mordin as the Commander entered his lab. Tali stirred a little with the shout, and then promptly fell back asleep against Shepard's chest.

"Hi, Mordin," he replied. "What's the story with the Collector nanomachines? I noticed that our four captured crew are up and about."

Mordin grasped his lapels. "Have been studying blood samples from all Collector captives we rescued. Appears that nanomachines require a command signal broadcast by Collectors. They are currently inert and being broken down. Expect that human immune systems will eventually flush them out."

Shepard sagged a little more, this time with relief. "We caught a break, for once. What about the ones still unconscious? Dr. Chakwas said she knew some people on the Citadel that could help."

Mordin nodded. "Probably best course of action. Own experience with human mental rehabilitation is limited."

The Commander hugged Tali a little tighter. "Okay, then. Let me know if you find anything else. Otherwise we're heading at full speed for the Citadel. Did you get that, EDI?"

"Of course, Shepard. I'll let Jeff know and lay in a course. Now please, get some sleep. Logging out."

Shepard didn't say anything else, he just headed for the elevator. Tali should have been heavy in his arms, but right now she felt like a feather. Once he reached his cabin, he gently placed her on the bed. She didn't even stir as he set her down. Then Shepard began to struggle out of his armor. Fortunately it was made to come off fairly easily. There weren't that many catches to undo before the armor was a heap at his feet. Shepard didn't even remember falling forward onto the mattress and passing out.

* * *

Donnelly awoke with the sound of happy humming. His view was of a lovely green-armored bum that was instantly recognizable. He also felt oddly light, and then realized he was encased in a blue glow. Jack had him slung over her shoulder as she made her way towards their quarters, and was using her biotics to reduce her load.

"Shouldn't I be the one carrying you, lass?" he asked.

He felt one of her hands pat him on the arse. "Nah. You gotta save your strength."

"Ah. I see." Jack had mentioned she was terminally horny. Well, if he didn't survive the upcoming sex then he at least he would go out with a bang.

They reached his little quarters. Jack opened the door and unceremoniously slung him in the door and onto the bunk. With the bunk unfolded there was barely enough room for her to squeeze in as well. Donnelly began to get up as Jack stripped off her armor. "Here, let me help you-"

She pushed him back on the bunk with a genuine smile. "No. Just watch." Jack made a show out of removing every piece of her armor, and Donnelly couldn't deny that ,in spite of his exhaustion, the sight of Jack's form being slowly uncovered gave him fresh strength. Finally she stood next to the bunk clad only in panties and an undershirt. Her face had lost that lovely smile and was suddenly blank and unreadable.

"Er...Jack?"

Jack pounced on him and wrapped her arms and legs around him. She tucked her head under his chin and sniffed. Donnelly realized with a sudden shock that she was crying.

"Hold me and don't ever let me go," she said through her sniffling.

Donnelly was more than happy to comply. She felt light as a feather in his arms. "I can do that, lass."

"I remembered you," she said with a sob. "You didn't forget me, and I didn't forget you. That fucking thing tried to strip everything from my mind, but it couldn't take you. I remembered your name. And your name led me out of there."

He felt some tears of his own start up. They held each other as they both passed out.

* * *

Shepard woke to find himself spooning Tali. Tali was the little spoon, of course. She had grabbed his hand in her sleep and tucked it against her stomach. He hugged her against him and thought about his experience in the Reaper's mind. It had unlocked some deep desires that he had always pushed away and never acknowledged. But now Shepard could admit that, yes, he had lusted a bit over Ashley Williams. And he knew from her borderline-flirtatious talking that the lieutenant had lusted after him as well. Only Alliance regulations and their mutual respect for each other's ranks had prevented it from turning into something real.

And that was one of the things that had eaten at him ever since the Virmire mission. What could have been. Well, thanks to that fucking Reaper he'd finally gotten a taste of what life with Ash would have been like. And it would have been wonderful, for sure. But that Reaper's illusion also made him realize that he had to drop what might have been and focus more on what was, especially Tali. He had always felt a connection to the once-awkward quarian, ever since meeting her in that dingy alley on the Citadel. But he'd always dismissed it as 'just' friendship. It had taken getting blown to bits and getting patched back together to make him realize just how much he cared for her.

Tali stirred in his arms. "Mmm...Keelah, I stink something fearsome. Do you mind if I use your shower to clean myself?"

He nuzzled the top of her cowl. "Not at all. It should be pretty sanitized right now. Would you like some assistance?"

Shepard could her the amusement in her reply. "Well, I don't know. For some of the hard-to-reach places, I might need the help of a brave and brawny captain. Now where would I find one of those?"

* * *

Exhaustion can only last so long. The interior of the ship was slowly being put back together as they made their way back to the Citadel. After everyone was patched up and caught up on sleep, the _Normandy_ effectively turned into a flying party.

Donnelly dodged a pair of the crew as they whooped and ran through the corridors. He shook his head with a smile and continued on to his destination, which was one of the control linkages that had been exposed during the repairs on the Collector base. He just had to check it out and put it all back together properly.

He found the access panel in question, which was near the main crew quarters. Donnelly pulled out his probes and got to work. It was pleasant and unchallenging work, and he hummed happily to himself as he replaced the temporary repairs with something more permanent. He took one last look at everything and then closed the panel.

Donnelly was immediately encased in a blue glow and held immobile. He sagged a little. "Jack? Come on, lass, I do have a couple more of these to do."

"Later, dude," said Jack's voice from behind him. "You're missing the party."

To Donnelly, that was honestly a bit of a relief. After their escape from the Collector base, it seemed like the biotic had embarked on an experiment to determine if it was possible to kill a human male using repeated sexual intercourse as a weapon. Donnelly's spirit was ever willing, but his flesh was becoming increasingly bruised and weak.

He made a great show of sighing. "Okay, if you insist."

Jack snorted in laughter. "Like you have a choice." He began floating like a soap bubble down the hall towards Kasumi's lounge, with Jack staying behind him. The doors to the lounge hissed open and there was a great shout as Donnelly came drifting in. It looked like most of the crew was crammed into the space. The 'engineer' part of Donnelly's mind couldn't help but think that this was a possible fire hazard.

"Look who I found!" yelled Jack. "Now someone get this asshole good and drunk!"

The blue glow winked out, and Donnelly staggered as he could move his limbs again. A glass of something...green was thrust into his hand. There was a multitude of slaps on his back, and it was only through long practice that he kept from spilling his drink. He gave the room a general toast and took a sip.

Donnelly promptly coughed. "Ach, what is this?" It was tart and strong.

"Turian whiskey!" said Kasumi happily. The little thief had appeared next to him. "It turns out there's no bad proteins in it for us levo-types."

Garrus loomed behind her. From the turian's happy expression, it was clear that he had already sampled quite a bit of his 'hometown' whiskey. "It should give less of a hangover than that krogan stuff, eh?" he said with a grin. He and Donnelly clinked glasses. The engineer took another swig as he made the rounds of the party. It looked like Joker was doing duty as the bartender, which kept his fragile frame on the other side of the bar and out of the general melee.

Grunt had installed himself at one side of the main viewport. He had a large mug in one hand and an oddly beatific smile on his huge face. "Engineer!" he called out. "How are you?"

"Um, fine...?" It was an oddly enthusiastic greeting from the alien. Donnelly had probably exchanged less than twenty words with Grunt since the krogan had been decanted from his holding tank. He was even more nonplussed when Grunt stuck out a huge paw, clearly expecting a handshake. Donnelly went ahead and took the proffered hand, only to find himself pulled into a crushing bear hug.

"Thank you for being my friend!" said the krogan in a happy voice that would have sounded more appropriate coming from Kelly.

Donnelly found it hard to breathe. "Ooof...don't mention it Grunt, er, thanks for being mine."

Grunt released Donnelly and gave him a cheerful nod. Donnelly returned it and walked away in a daze.

The engineer found Zaeed off in one corner. The mercenary had acquired a wheelchair along with a reputation for rolling right over toes without warning. His scarred face looked oddly peaceful as he sipped on a scotch. Sheila was curled up in his lap like a cat while Lucy massaged his shoulders.

"Chiefy!" he cried happily as Donnelly came near. "Looks like we're both gonna be members of the fake body parts club!"

Donnelly gave a worried look at Zaeed's lower body. "I thought your legs were okay."

"Oh they're fine. Some of my spine was crushed, though. They have to replace the bone with synthetics. They also gotta put in some artificial nerves." He shook his head. "Six months at least before I'm back up an' running."

"Oh, don't worry Zaeed," purred Lucy. "I'm sure we can make the time fly by."

Zaeed winked at Donnelly. "Fortunately not all of my nerves got damaged."

The engineer smiled and saluted them with his glass.

"Marcus!" That yell could only be Shepard. He turned to see his Commander with a beaming smile. He waved Donnelly over to his own little group. "Com'on over here! Have some...what is this again?"

"Serrice Ice Brandy," said Dr. Chakwas. She had a big smile on her face, which looked odd to Donnelly. It wasn't like the doctor was always frowning, but she did tend to look serious most of the time. Now she looked positively giddy.

Donnelly held up his glass. "It's all right, sir, I've already got a..." Another glass was thrust into his remaining open hand. He looked down at both glasses and shrugged. This was going to be one of _those_ parties. He looked back up and saw Mordin there as well. The salarian looked even more cheerful than usual, probably due to the glass of brandy in his hand. Donnelly had once wondered what a drunk Mordin was like, and now he might get a chance to find out.

A sudden thought struck him. "Er, if both of the doctors are here, who's looking after our coma patients?"

"EDI is," replied Shepard. "Don' worry, she's keepin' a good eye on 'em."He then put an arm around Donnelly's shoulders. "Now, listen, I hadda idea about some modific... modofo...changes to my cabin. Let's talk about it later."

Donnelly gave his captain an amused look. "Commander, you're drunk."

"Marcus! The very idea!" Shepard's mock-hurt look lasted about five seconds before they both started laughing.

A whoop from the other end of the room caught everyone's attention. Jack jumped up on the bar. She was wearing her usual leather vest-and-hot-pants outfit. "Attention, my lovelies. Our very own Kelly Chambers has challenged me to a dance-off. I don't dance, but right now I gotta lotta booze in me so it is fucking _on_. Make sure you all remember this good, ya buncha pervos, 'cause you ain't gonna see it again. Let's go, Perky Slut."

Kelly hopped up beside Jack as something loud and techno-flavored began booming out over the loudspeakers. The two figures began gyrating to even louder whoops from the crowd.

Donnelly was biased, of course, but it did seem like Jack was winning. By the barest fraction, of course. Kelly's more generously-endowed form contrasted nicely with Jack's slim and wiry frame. They swayed around each other in a manner that was less 'competition' and more 'prelude to something more than dancing'.

"Who is that?" Lucy had appeared at Donnelly's elbow.

"Er, which one, lass?"

"The one with the ink." The blonde had an almost predatory look on her face.

Donnelly smiled widely and managed to avoid feeling completely smug. "That's Jack. She's my girl."

Lucy gave him an appreciative wink. "You lucky bastard."

The whoops got louder as a cowled figure in a purple-and-black suit leaped up beside the two dancers. Donnelly's smugness turned to jaw-on-the-floor amazement as Tali began to dance. As good as the other two were, the quarian moved like she had no damn _bones_.

"Okay, now who is _that_?" Lucy didn't sound predatory this time. She sounded as amazed as Donnelly felt.

Shepard appeared behind them both. He sported a huge drunken grin. "That's _my_ girl!"

After that the party really got going. The dance-off ended with Tali as the clear winner. The competition then evolved into excuse for most of the females on the _Normandy_ to demonstrate their moves. Samara almost managed to beat Tali in the flexibility department, and Miranda even got out and showed her stuff. Donnelly had to admit that Miranda did pretty well, but avoided showing too much interest. There were limits to Jack's forgiveness, after all, and he did not want to be caught ogling the ex-Cerberus officer's ass.

And then the general call started. "Speech! Speech!"

Shepard was pushed to the front, and managed to vault up onto the bar without stumbling or spilling his drink. He held up one hand and the crowd quieted. "Alright, alright. I don't do speeches. Well, not big ones. I don't wanna make this all sad and shit, but I told you all about Vermire before. I just wanna drink a toast to the one I had to leave behind." He raised his glass. "To Ashley Williams," he said quietly.

"To Ashley Williams," everyone responded, and they drank.

Then Shepard got a big smile. "And one more toast, on a happier note. To those who went into the very heart of darkness and made it out alive. To the most beautiful group of bastards I ever had the privilege to lead into battle. To the crew of the _Normandy_!"

That got a loud cheer and another hearty drink. Shepard's smile got even bigger. "And as your commanding officer, I declare that the next part of the festivities will be karaoke!"

There was a mixture of groans and cheers at that news. In the following singing competition, Shepard was unanimously voted the worst, while Mordin won hands-down.

Donnelly tried to keep count of his drinks, he really did. But his counting kept coming up with conflicting numbers and finally he gave up. His last, very hazy memory was of him actually dancing, which was ridiculous.

* * *

Miranda looked up as Jacob entered the medbay. She was seated near the unconscious former captives and checking their vitals.

"Didn't want to do karaoke, eh?"

She shrugged. "I figured I would make my exit after Shepard's speech. And I metabolize alcohol faster than most, so if I wanted to get drunk I'd really have to work at it. Not worth the headache." Miranda smiled at him. "What about you?"

Jacob chuckled. "Well, I had enough of Kasumi pinching my ass. I think it's just her way of saying no hard feelings, but I figured I'd leave her to molest Garrus instead." He took a seat next to her and looked at the sleeping forms of the ones they'd rescued. "Are they going to be okay?"

Miranda's face lost its smile. "Honestly, I have no idea. You know better than most what they went through."

He nodded. The armorer's face was also serious. "I meant what I said, back there in the Collector base. Having somebody else in my head helped. It helped a lot. Otherwise there was nothing to hold on to." He regarded the former captives again. "They must not have had anybody in there to hold on to."

Without a word, he reached out a hand. There was no hesitation as Miranda took it and gripped it like she'd never let him go.

* * *

Donnelly woke to a pulsing hum that he initially thought was in his head. But when he opened his eyes the noise turned out to be the drive core. Its blue light throbbed above him as he lay in the little alcove off of Main Engineering. Surprisingly, he had only a mild headache to show for all of his debauchery.

Jack was sprawled face-down on top of him, apparently using him as a portable mattress. The botic was snoring and drooling into his shirt. She wore only her leather hot-pants, which was surprising. After that much booze Donnelly would have expected her to be completely nude.

As he stirred, so did Jack. She raised her head hesitantly and looked around. "How did we wind up here?"

"No idea, lass."

She groaned. "Errrgh. What time is it?"

Donnelly rubbed his forehead. "Fook that. What _day_ is it?"


	51. Epilogue Part 1: Step Right Up

"And you're sure you can't see anything?" asked Shepard for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Yes, John," replied Tali. "I have my visor opaqued. Just don't steer me into a wall or something."

She had to admit that she was curious. Shepard had (very) apologetically asked her to move back into her old tube-quarters for a couple of days while he and Donnelly performed their mysterious modifications to his cabin. Tali couldn't figure out why the Commander wanted to keep it a surprise, but since it made him happy she figured she'd go along with it.

Tali felt John place her hand on his elbow. "Just walk beside me, and I'll guide you."

They walked out of the elevator towards his cabin, and Tali managed to avoid bumping herself into the doorframe as they walked in.

"Okay," said Shepard. "Ta-da!" He sounded like a little kid with a brand new toy.

Tali cleared her visor. The front half of the cabin was unchanged. The rear half was now split in two. The bed had been divided down the middle by a clear partition. The partition ran past the foot of the bed and then angled into the wall, creating a smaller separate space in the cabin. She could see a small hatch set into the end of the new space.

She turned to Shepard. "Okay, so there's now a smaller room in your room. For me, I assume. What am I missing here?"

He was grinning as if he was ready to burst. "The room is the least of it. That new section has the same sterilizing system that we use for the airlocks, so it can be keep clean. It'll be at least as clean as the inside of your suit."

Tali's eyes widened. "Oh! I could actually sleep without my suit. I could..." She trailed off as her mind whirled. She could perform maintenance on her suit without worry. She could get more of those solid quarian rations and actually _eat_. It was like she'd been given a little patch of freedom. She wrapped her arms around Shepard's neck and squeezed tight.

He laughed. "I take it you like it, then?"

She couldn't trust her voice right now, so she only nodded her head against his chest.

"Would you like to try it out?"

She nodded again, and looked up. "I guess this means we're...what's the human phrase...'going steady'?"

"And how," replied Shepard.

"It's going to be a big change for me, you know," she said with a wink. "I'm so used to sleeping in my suit. I might need some company during the night to make me feel more comfortable."

He slid his hands down to her rear and lifted her up and against him. "I think I might be able to provide that, Ms. vas Normandy."

* * *

Upon her previous visits to the Citadel, the _Normandy's_ presence had been the source of much curiosity. A famous frigate, resurrected and sporting a Cerberus logo, and helmed by a hero thought dead? It obviously caused tongues to wag. Now she was back, proudly bearing the symbol of the Spectres instead and looking as if she'd fought a major action. It sent the gossip network on the docks into overdrive.

The buzz got even louder when Shepard himself strode off of the ship with a mixed crew of humans and aliens. The group carried a slew of unconscious humans. They'd been stopped for about ten seconds at the entry before Shepard had exercised his privilege as a Spectre and simply waved them all past the now-apoplectic security agent. The unconscious ones had then been taken up to Huerta Memorial Hospital in the Presidium.

And in the wake of Shepard's group, rumors spread. He had been in the Terminus systems, that much was known for certain. But in the absence of any other hard facts speculation ran wild. Shepard had blown up a major Cerberus base. Shepard had deposed Aria T'Loak and now was in charge of Omega. Shepard had fought a major battle with the geth. Shepard had _become_ a geth.

The tabloid websites on the Citadel went to work, and their reporters dashed out to find out what had happened. Or at least to get some juicy pictures.

* * *

Donnelly had his impassive 'Chief Engineer' face on as he stared at a point in space above Councilor David Anderson's head. This was his first time meeting the man face-to-face, and he couldn't help but notice how the Councilor seemed like an older and slightly grayer version of Shepard in both build and in temperament. Anderson's dark-skinned face was set in a concentrated frown as he read through Shepard's report.

The report itself had been gone over by the whole crew, including EDI. All references to the AI or to Legion had been scrubbed out. As far as anyone else knew, the _Normandy_ simply had a very advanced virtual interface. And Legion was good at making itself unseen in case any curious Councilors or their agents came on board.

The engineer had to admit that Anderson's office was very nice. It had a large balcony behind the Councilor's desk that looked out onto the Presidium, and the room was awash with artificial sunlight.

Finally Anderson set the datapad down. "This is very thorough, John."

Shepard nodded. "I've learned from the past. Ilos was a panic run since Saren was already on the move. We never had time to get proper data from Vigil or to get corroborating video and samples."

"And by the time we got back to Ilos, Vigil wasn't functioning," replied Anderson. "You wanted to avoid that this time, I assume."

"You bet," said Shepard. The Spectre indicated the containers at his feet. "Now we've got enough data to ram the truth down the Council's throat. Helmet vids of the Horizon colony mission, not to mention a full reverse engineering of the Collector Seeker insects plus countermeasures. We have tissue samples and a full analysis of the Collectors themselves. From the Collector base, we have lots of helmet vid plus isolated samples of the nanomachines they were using to...process their captives."

"And the end result of this 'processing'...the Collectors were building a Reaper," said Anderson, in a tone of a man who doesn't want to admit an unpleasant truth.

"Yes, sir," replied Shepard. "We didn't get physical samples from the Reaper itself, unfortunately. But we do have plenty of images and scan data of the machine they were constructing."

"And these people you rescued, can they help corroborate your report?"

The Commander nodded. "Two of them can. They were awake during the rescue. The other thirteen are being slowly brought out of a medically induced coma. Dr. Chakwas is overseeing their physical well-being at the moment, and one Dr. Hanna Bledsoe is trying to ascertain their mental health. Dr. Chakwas said that she's the best in her field." Shepard indicated Donnelly. "Chief Engineer Donnelly was also one of those taken by the Collectors, so when we present this to the Council he can give his testimony as well."

Anderson stood and looked Donnelly in the eye. "Marcus Donnelly, isn't it?"

Donnelly nodded. He was sure that Admiral Hackett and the Councilor spoke on a regular basis, and was also certain that Anderson knew the exact circumstances of his departure from the Alliance. "Yes, sir."

Anderson gave an amused little grin. "I should mention that Admiral Hackett is here on the Citadel. I'm sure he'll want to speak to _both_ of you."

Shepard smiled while Donnelly felt his heart drop into his guts. But he kept his face stoic as the Councilor turned away and gazed at the bright view outside.

"I'm not gonna lie," he said without turning around, "this is a real shit-show you brought me, John. But fortunately not as much as when you first turned up. Now that you've broken all ties with Cerberus, the other Councilors should be more comfortable as to your true motives. Cerberus was never acceptable around here, and now those bastards are on the move in earnest."

"What are they up to?" asked Shepard. "As you can imagine, we've been pretty busy."

Anderson turned back to face them. "The Illusive Man is setting himself up as the head of a proper quasi-governmental entity. Armed forces, ships, manufacturing networks, the whole business. The Alliance is leading the effort against them, for the PR angle if nothing else. We want to make sure that the other races know Cerberus is an aberration, and doesn't speak for humanity in general."

Shepard smiled. "Well, we do happen to have quite a bit of data on Cerberus command structures and such. A lot of it will be out of date, but I'm sure some of it will be useful."

Donnelly noted that the Commander was not bringing up Miranda or Jacob. Whether or not they wanted to turn 'state's evidence', so to speak, had been left strictly up to them.

"And you have a Cerberus ship as well," said Anderson. "A teardown and analysis of this new _Normandy_ would also reveal a lot. Unless you think that it isn't necessary." He peered at Shepard, and Donnelly realized that the Councilor must have figured out that some things had been left out of the report.

A teardown would, of course, reveal the presence of EDI. That in turn would ignite a further firestorm with the Council. Shepard kept his face neutral as he replied. "I would prefer not to, sir. Sentimental attachment aside, we've had a full systems sweep of her and have removed any possible Cerberus backdoors or surprises."

"And who performed this sweep?" asked Anderson. He didn't look suspicious, exactly, but he didn't look comfortable either.

"The main software check was performed by Tali'Zorah," replied Shepard. "She and Engineer Donnelly oversaw the physical check."

Anderson's face broke into a warm smile. "How is Tali doing, anyway?"

Shepard matched his smile. "She's doing well, sir, and sends her regards."

The Councilor laughed. "You know, the gossip mills have been churning non-stop since you arrived. Rumor has it that you and she were seen holding hands as you came onto the Citadel."

The Commander actually blushed a little. "Well, we wanted to keep it low-key, you know?"

Anderson laughed louder. "For once, I am very happy to hear that a scurrilous rumor is true." He held out a hand, and Shepard shook it. "My congratulations to the both of you. Take good care of her, or I'll hunt you down and kick your ass myself."

"I don't doubt it, sir," replied Shepard.

The Councilor looked down at Shepard's report and sighed. "Okay. Let me call a meeting of the Council so we can drag them kicking and screaming into the light of truth." He looked up with a piercing glare at Donnelly. "Are you ready to be grilled, son?"

Donnelly had never felt less prepared in his life. But he figured that after all of the nonsense he had just survived, dealing with a bunch of stuffy bureaucrats would be a bit of a lark. "I'm ready, sir." He turned towards the holographic display that was set against one of the walls.

Anderson chuckled. "This is too momentous for a phone call, Mr. Donnelly. This calls for a face-to-face meeting. We're heading for the Tower."

* * *

Turians were usually hard to read, but Councilor Sparatus was downright statue-like as Shepard gave a verbal summary of his full report. Sparatus and the two other Councilors were busy paging through the report. Shepard had told Donnelly that the turian was going to be the hardest one to convince. But to the engineer, the salarian also looked to be less than open to what this report was saying.

Anderson stood at the far end of the line of Councilors. He had already stated his belief in the report's veracity, and that it was up to the rest of the Council to decide. The four Councilors faced the two humans, who stood on a little dais that was separated from the Council by a short gap.

Donnelly couldn't stop looking around. This was the legendary Council chambers, the seat of political power for a good chunk of the galaxy. It had been more-or-less rebuilt after Sovereign's attack. There was one section of rubble that had been left alone and which had a plaque mounted above it. It must be some memorial to those who died in the attack Nobody else was in the place; the Council had insisted that this report be treated as top secret for the moment.

Finally Shepard finished, and then it was Donnelly's turn to stand in front of the four. He gave an edited summary of his recruitment by Shepard, of his time aboard the _Normandy_ , and of his experiences while held captive by the Collectors. The latter was hard for him. It brought up traumatic memories in him while at the same time it sounded ridiculous, even to his ears.

When he was done the asari Councilor, Tevos, gave him a dazzling smile that didn't reach her eyes. In spite of her outwardly friendly manner, Donnelly knew she was a politician all the way through. "Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Donnelly. I'm glad to see you safe and sound after such an ordeal. If you don't mind, I would like to get clarification on a few points..."

The grilling that followed was polite but very thorough. Fortunately the cross-examination never strayed into either the existence of EDI or Legion. The Councilors initially seemed interested in both his own service record as well as how he had been approached by Shepard and Cerberus.

They eventually switched to his experience in the Collector base. The main interest seemed to be what the Collectors were actually doing with all of their captives. Donnelly was able to report on the 'half-woman' he'd seen, and showed them vids of it as well. That made all three of the non-human councilors look grim.

"But you did not see with your own eyes this claimed Reaper construct?" asked Valern, the salarian councilor.

"No, sir. I was in no fit condition for anything other than getting the hell out of there. I helped as best I could with the other captives, but that was all. I did see the helmet cam footage afterwards, however. And we also have detailed scans of the thing."

Valern nodded, but he looked like he'd bitten into something sour.

Sparatus sighed. "In spite of my own opinions in this matter, I do have to commend Shepard on his thoroughness. It does seem that the Collectors were building something horrific. But even if, and I say _if_ , this entity under construction was an embryonic Reaper, then I fail to understand _why_."

"If you turn to Appendix B of my report, it will become more clear," said Shepard. "We analysed the signals broadcast by the Omega Four relay during our two transits through it. We've found evidence that there is an entire other level of access in the mass relay network. Our own use of the relays is limited to the most simple level, which allows point-to-point transference. But this other level...think of it like gaining administrator privileges on a computer system. You can go anywhere and do anything in the network."

Councilor Tevos rubbed her crest. "I think I see what you're driving at. Accessing this 'admin priviledge' might require a very high-level artificial intellect."

Shepard nodded. "If the construct we found is any indication, then a Reaper's mind is a biomechanical _gestalt_ mentality comprised of millions, perhaps billions, of once-living organic sapient minds. The processing power available to such a being is something that we can only guess at. And that is what's required to access this other level in the mass relay network."

Sparatus didn't look convinced. "If, and again I say _if_ , the large geth ship that attacked the Citadel was indeed a Reaper, then why didn't it use this massive brainpower during the attack? Such an entity would be capable of hacking into numerous control systems. Sovereign could have turned half of its attackers on the other half."

"It was trying to open the Citadel's mass relay," said Shepard. "It appears the Citadel relay requires that 'higher-level access', and as such it required much of Sovereign's intellect during the battle."

Sparatus's face finally showed an expression. He gave a little twitch of a mandible in the turian equivalent of a grim smile. "If I may use a human saying, then Sovereign was fighting us with one hand tied behind its back. And it still managed to nearly win."

Donnelly noted that the turian didn't use any 'if' qualifiers this time.

Valern spoke up. "So your theory is that this Collector construct would have made another attack on the Citadel?"

Shepard shrugged. "Perhaps. Or there might be other long-range relays that we know nothing about hidden away in the network. But that's all speculation. What isn't speculation is that the Reapers have backup plans in case they can't activate the Citadel relay. And they probably have backup plans for those backup plans."

Tevos looked worried. "That means we can't assume they'll give up."

Shepard shook his head. "No more than we could stop breathing. The Cycles are how Reapers reproduce. They make more of themselves out of the bodies of those they destroy. And they also view it as a kind of religious calling. From some of the statements made by the Human-Reaper, they view themselves as the ultimate type of intelligence. To them, becoming a Reaper is the one true path for all sapients."

The asari councilor nodded. "May we have a moment to confer?"

Shepard nodded, and the Council was suddenly hidden from view behind an opaque holographic wall. He turned to Donnelly. "Good job, Marcus."

Donnelly shrugged. "If you say so, sir. I'm not sure what they were getting at with half of their questions for me."

Shepard gave a grim smile. "If I had to guess, they were trying to determine just how tightly I was aligned with Cerberus at the beginning. And I think Valern was hoping that you had contacted us first, so he could paint you as some kind of nutty radical who was itching to run off and join Cerberus at the first excuse."

Donnelly regarded the holographic wall with a faint shudder. "Politics. Ugh. I'm glad I'm an engineer. I'd be daft inside of five minutes with that kind of job."

After a little while longer, the wall flickered off. The four councilors stood as if at attention, and Donnelly almost unconsciously adopted the same posture. Shepard stood relaxed in parade rest, ready to receive their judgement.

Councilor Tevos spoke. "Commander Shepard, we are once more indebted to you. Both you and your crew have risked life and limb to uncover and destroy this effort by the Collectors to build a dangerous Artificial Intelligence." Her eyes flicked over to Councilor Sparatus' stony face. "Whether we call them 'Reapers' or not, it seems that these powerful AIs constitute a clear and present danger to Council space, and perhaps to the rest of the galaxy as well. We know all too well the dangers that come with unrestricted opening of relays in the network. The possibility of a sufficiently powerful AI doing so at will is even more disquieting. Therefore, your next assignment will be to determine if any such high-level AIs currently exist in galactic space. You are also to develop means for defeating them should they be discovered."

Shepard gave a nod. "Thank you, Councilor. In order to carry out this assignment, may I assume that my full Spectre status has been reinstated?"

The asari nodded. "We see no further need to confine you to the Terminius Systems, Commander. Any former alliance you had with Cerberus was clearly a matter of convenience. Consider yourself reinstated. You have the full support of the Council...as long as certain names are not used to refer to these high-level AIs."

Shepard smiled. "Understood, Councilor. My thanks to you all."

Tevos smiled back at both Shepard and Donnelly, and this time it was a genuine smile. "It is we who should be thanking you. All of you. Go in peace."

Shepard was practically bouncing as they made their way down the steps towards the elevator. "We did it, Marcus!"

"We did?" Donnelly was still confused. "But they never acknowledged the Reap-"

The Commander waved a hand to cut him off. "Nonono, don't say it. As long as we don't use _that_ name for them, we're free to go hunting...certain dangerous AIs. And the Alliance can now get involved too, since they won't be bucking official Council policy."

The light went on in Donnelly's head. "I get it. The Council can't lose face. They have to maintain their image of being all-wise, so they can't admit they were wrong about the Rea...that word. But now at least they're willing to actually do something about them."

"Yep." Shepard looked like he was going to explode from excitement. "There's a lot to do. _So_ much to do."

Donnelly shook his head. "Politics. I'd rather have a bullet in me head."

As they reached the elevator, the doors slid open. It turned out that the car was already occupied by just about the last person Donnelly wanted to see. Pale gray eyes looked out from a craggy face and scanned over them both. Admiral Steven Hackett gave Shepard a smile. "John! I was just heading up to see you. How did it go?"

Shepard was grinning as he walked in. "Great. We got the go-ahead, as long as certain names are not used."

Hackett nodded. "Got it." His eyes flicked over to Donnelly, who stood in front of the elevator in frozen terror. "Going down?" he asked mildly.

Donnelly nodded in a daze and stepped in. He promptly faced the front, away from the Admiral, and tried not to panic. The man hadn't said anything. Why not? Maybe he'd forgotten what Donnelly had said to him. No, that was nonsense. This was _Hackett_. He probably remembered what he'd had for breakfast six years ago.

The engineer realized he was tapping his hand nervously on his thigh, and grabbed it with his other hand to stop. He tried to make the move look casual.

"So what about you?" asked Hackett. For one heart-freezing moment Donnelly thought that the admiral was addressing him, but then Shepard replied.

"I'm back to full Spectre, no strings attached. What about my status with the Alliance?"

"It's complicated," replied Hackett. "There's still some question as to the extent of your involvement with Cerberus. Having the Council vouch for you will help a lot, but it will still take some time to reinstate you as Commander."

"Hmm. No offense, Admiral, but it might be better for me to just go ahead and resign my commission. We're going to need all of the races in on this. If I'm still seen as an Alliance tool that might make it more difficult."

"That is a decision I leave to you. I trust your judgement, John." Hackett sounded supremely confident. "I've always said that you would make a good politician."

Donnelly managed to avoid laughing at the notion. He could feel Hackett's eyes boring into his back.

"And then, of course," said Hackett, "there is the question of what to do with this new _Normandy_ and her crew."

Donnelly looked up at the indicator and saw with a sinking heart that they were only halfway down the Council Tower. This was the longest elevator ride in his life. He willed it to move faster.

Shepard's voice was firm. "I want to keep the _Normandy_. I need a ship, after all. I know a lot of the crew have questionable backgrounds, but they're damn good people. I'd like to keep them on as well."

"Of course. But perhaps they wouldn't want to stay? There's no substitution for getting it straight from the horse's mouth, as it were. Tell me, Engineer Donnelly, do you have any future plans?"

Donnelly realized he had to turn and face the music, so to speak. So he turned, half expecting the admiral to have grown fangs. But instead Hackett wore a very mild expression.

Donnelly wetted his lips. "Well, sir, speaking only for meself...I never actually expected to survive the Collector mission, so I'm honestly at a loss."

Hackett actually chuckled. "An honest opinion is always appreciated. I suppose you are now free to do as you wish. You have no other ties, correct?"

Donnelly's breathing was difficult. He was sure the Admiral was just waiting for his opportunity to strike. "None, sir. Oh, except for Jack. And I have no idea what she has planned for the future."

"Jack?"

Shepard leaned forward. "The human biotic we picked up from Purgatory. She was instrumental in that final fight against the Reaper."

"Ah!" Hackett looked pleased for some reason. "Well, Mr. Donnelly, if Ms. Jack is looking for a future there is one I can suggest. There's a First Lieutenant Khalee Sanders who is always looking for new biotic talent. I can forward her contact information to you."

"I'll pass it along to Jack, sir. It's up to her if she wants to do anything with it."

"Obviously," replied Hackett. He got an evil grin on his face. "In a way, I envy you both. It must be nice to be able to choose your own path. Some of us are constrained by disgusting _politics_ , and we can't act as freely as we might wish. Wouldn't you say that's a harder path, _Mister_ Donnelly?"

"I would, sir." In a way, Donnelly was relieved. He was sure the Admiral was going to drop the hammer now.

Hackett nodded. "Yes, we all have our roles to play. For myself, I have had to follow along with the Council's decisions. Which have now changed in actual content if not in name, thanks to supreme effort by Shepard and all of you." The Admiral's eyes flicked down to Donnelly's right leg...the artificial one. "Speaking freely, I must say I'm impressed that you backed up your previous words to me with significant action."

And then the Admiral simply stopped talking. The engineer realized that was it. There was going to be no ass-chewing. "Sir," replied Donnelly. He snapped out a crisp salute, the first real one he'd given since leaving the Alliance.

Hackett returned the salute with equal crispness. "Keep up the good work, Mr. Donnelly."

"I shall, sir." The elevator doors mercifully opened, and Hackett strode out past Donnelly without another word.

Shepard smiled with an ironic air at Donnelly. "He has an effect, doesn't he?"

The engineer blinked. He'd entered that elevator in mortal terror of Hackett, and now he was quite ready to take a bullet for the stony-eyed bastard. "That he does, sir. That he does."

* * *

Jack stood and fidgeted. She was dressed about as conservatively as she ever had. A clean tee shirt with no vulgarity or obscene images printed on it, along with pants that were actually made out of cloth. "You're going to be on the lookout for any bullshit, right?"

"Both me and Garrus, lass." Donnelly indicated the turian seated next to him on the bench. "If anybody tries anything, he'll shoot 'em in the eye and then I'll run up and punch 'em in the yarbles."

"But he doesn't have a gun," said Jack. She looked uncharacteristically nervous.

Garrus gave a turian smile. He was out of his ship-board blue uniform and back into the loud orange shirt he'd worn on Illium. Donnelly had decided to match him with an equally garish floral-print shirt. "No gun that you can see," said Garrus. "I don't need a rifle, not at this range."

Jack nodded. Her jaw was tight. "Okay. Just don't be careful, okay Assface?"

"You neither, lass," replied Donnelly. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and walked off towards the cafe.

Donnelly stretched out on the bench. The sunshine still felt nice, even if it was artificial. It was a lovely day on the Presidium. Of course, in this place every day was a lovely day.

"Who is this she's meeting?" asked Garrus.

Donnelly shrugged. "Somebody with some sort of institute. They do biotic training."

Garrus gave a honking laugh. "The last thing Jack needs is more training. I saw the vids from the Collector base. She yanked Grunt up to the ledge like he weighed nothing."

The engineer gave the turian a smile. "Oh, she wouldn't be training. She'd be teaching."

Garrus's deep-set blue eyes met his. "Oh, spirits."

"You said it." Donnelly looked more closely at the turian. Garrus had a somewhat distracted look on his face. There was also a bit of a heat-shimmer in the air on the other side of the bench.

Donnelly looked over towards Jack. She was sitting down at one of the cafe's 'outdoor' tables, across from a blonde woman with pale blue eyes. They had their heads together and were talking very quietly.

The engineer looked back to Garrus. The turian was definitely looking as if his mind was elsewhere. "Kasumi," he said aloud. "Are you molesting Garrus?"

"Mmmmaaaybe," said a cheeky voice from the heat-shimmer next to Garrus. "He's mine to molest, after all."

Garrus cleared his throat. "A little hip-fondling never hurt anyone, right Kasumi?" Then the turian twitched. " _Hurk_. Kasumi, that's _not_ my hip..."

Donnelly smiled and looked back towards Jack and Sanders. The biotic's face looked concerned as the lieutenant talked. But so far everything seemed to be going well.

"Really, babe, this is a public place," muttered Garrus. "And I have to concentrate!"

There was a chuckle from nowhere. "Fine, I'll go see if there are any loose valuables."

Donnelly cleared his throat once he was more-or-less sure that Kasumi was gone. "So I guess she's going to, er, keep on with her profession?"

Garrus shook his head. "She doesn't steal little things like that. She just moves them around to mess with people."

"And you?" asked Donnelly. "It looks like Shepard is going to have an ongoing assignment to deal with...certain issues. Are you staying?"

The turian looked pensive. "I'm not sure. Kasumi has some good friends on the _Normandy_ , but she's also worried about keeping busy. There might not be much need for her particular skills on this new mission. And she wants to see Palaven. I do too, honestly. I still have family there, and it's been far too long since I've seen them."

Donnelly thought for a while. "Personally, I think you should make the trip to Palaven while you can. I have some family of my own I need to get in touch with." He sighed. "I'm gonna have to introduce my poor mum to Jack."

* * *

Miranda promised herself that she wouldn't cry. But it was a hard promise to keep. This was almost like she was losing her sister all over again. She and Oriana were standing against the wall of a bustling market in one of the Wards of the Citadel.

"And you're sure they're coming?"

Oriana squeezed Miranda's hand and smiled. "Of course. They arrived two hours ago. Some generous and anonymous benefactor suddenly dropped a bunch of money in their account. Enough to buy express flights to the Citadel for all three of them. I wonder who it could have been?"

Miranda matched her smile. "It's a mystery for the ages, I'm sure."

They stood and watched the traffic around them for a little while. "What will you do?" asked Miranda. "I mean, you've gotten a taste of several different professions. I know you hadn't made up your mind yet..."

"Robotics," said Oriana with finality. "Working on those drones for EDI was very satisfying. But after seeing Legion's hardware, I know they were just the beginning. I think I can make EDI an avatar with real capability. But I need to get some more education first."

"So you're coming back to the _Normandy_?"

"Eventually. Shepard said I'll be welcome anytime. The Collector threat is dealt with, but there will be other ways for the Re...for those guys to come in. We need to stop them before that happens."

Miranda blinked away a tear. "I'm proud of you...sis." It felt like a weight was lifted from her chest as she said the last word.

Oriana's response was cut short by a cry from across the market. "Oriana!" It came from a small girl who was leading a man and a woman into the market's center. They had the weary look of people who'd been crammed into small spaces for too long of a time. Now, all three of them were staring with relief at Oriana.

The young woman's head snapped around. "Helen!"

Miranda knew that she shouldn't interfere with this. She'd already done too much of that in the past. And so she tried to drop Oriana's hand.

But Oriana wasn't having any of it. She looked back at Miranda and gripped her hand tighter. "Oh, no. You don't get to slink back into the shadows with a melancholy smile. You're meeting them."

Miranda felt a little bit of panic and shook her head. "Please, I can't. It's too dangerous for them to know..."

"You don't have to tell them anything. Let me do the talking. Now come on, sister. Come meet our family."

Miranda let herself be towed out towards the waiting trio. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. And she managed to keep that promise for almost one whole minute after being introduced.

* * *

Jacob thought it was nice having your own personal giant krogan to navigate through a crowded area like Zakera Ward. _Everyone_ got out of your way. Grunt looked a little downcast. The armorer realized how far he'd come in recognizing krogan facial expressions; a few months ago, he wouldn't have picked up a thing.

"Are you feeling okay, Grunt?" he asked.

"I never got a chance to say I'm sorry. I lost your gun. I liked it."

Grunt looked so hurt that Jacob wanted to give the big alien a comforting pat on the shoulder. But that would lead to Grunt giving him a hug; for some reason the krogan had gotten very 'huggy' after the escape from the Collector base. And even though Jacob was much stronger than the average human, he was just flesh and bone. His ribs could only take so much.

"It's okay, Grunt. These things happen." He smiled. "And besides, that's why I asked you to come along today."

"Oh?"

They had reached their destination, and Jacob indicated it with a sweep of his arm. "Rodam Expeditions. They specialize in high-end hunting equipment and weaponry. I called around and found out they have an item you might be interested in."

Grunt's face now looked puzzled. "Me?

"Well, Miranda tells me you're the one who actually got me out of that damn cylinder. I thought a little thank-you gift was in order."

The krogan lit up. "A new gun?"

Jacob nodded with a grin. "C'mon in, let's have a look..."

The turian in charge of the place, one Etarn Tiron, was gleeful at the prospect of helping out members of Shepard's crew. It was a little disconcerting to hear the Commander's recorded voice playing his little endorsement every so often, but the two crewmembers quickly became more fixated on the gun that Tiron toted out.

"And here we are," he said, placing it gently on the counter. It was as big as the OMFG, but there the similarities ended. Grunt's old shotgun had been a crude, rough object formed from a 3D-printing prototyper. It had worked flawlessly, but that was its only redeeming feature.

This gun, on the other hand, was _art_. It looked like it was carved from a single block of chromed metal, and its lines flowed seamlessly from the stock through the grip and then to the barrel. Even though the bore was almost big enough for Jacob to put his hand in, the shotgun somehow seemed just the right size.

Tiron patted it with one clawed hand. "This is one-of-a-kind. It's a specialty item I had made for a previous customer. He was a high-ranking krogan warlord who wanted to try his hand at hunting thresher maws. And then the silly bugger goes off and hunts a thresher maw _before_ picking up the gun and gets himself bitten in half. I've tried to sell it, but most people would just break their arm if they tried to fire it."

"I can imagine," said Jacob. He rolled his shoulder and shuddered at a painful memory.

"May I...may I hold it?" Grunt sounded like he was going to pass out from restrained excitement.

Tiron waved his hand to the back. "We have a small shooting range if you want to try it."

The krogan reverently picked up the gun and nodded.

Once they were in the range, Grunt took it through its paces. The first target dummy was vaporized with one shot. Grunt looked a little surprised at the gun's power, and tried again with the next dummy. It met the same fate as its partner.

"Sorry," he said to Tiron.

The turian laughed. "Don't worry, dummies are cheap. It's actually nice to see the old girl get taken out for a spin, as the humans say."

Grunt looked down at the gun. "It fits me well." He turned to the human. "But I cannot accept this, Jacob."

"Why not?" Jacob was hoping he hadn't committed some sort of blunder of krogan etiquette.

"This is a custom gun," replied Grunt. "It will be far too expensive."

Tiron grinned. "It's less than you think. My now-deceased warlord customer put down a substantial deposit for me to make it. Really, I just want to make sure she goes to a good home." The turian put an arm around Grunt's shoulders. But because this was Grunt, it wound up being more like a shoulder-and-a-half. "I'm sure we can come to some mutually beneficial agreement. Now, the rumors say that Shepard went and killed himself another Thing-That-We-Are-Not-Calling-A-Reaper. They also say that you were instrumental in achieving that kill."

Grunt actually looked embarrassed. "We all did our parts. My Battlemaster has a strong krantt."

"I don't doubt it. But it would mean the world to me to get an endorsement from one of the people who struck down a Not-A-Reaper."

The krogan now looked giddy. "I tell people to come get big guns here, and then I can have this big gun?"

Tiron nodded. "If you don't mind, I have a little recording setup over here..."

* * *

"Hi, I'm Grunt. Do you like guns? Yes, you do. Guns are fun. Killing things is fun. What is more fun than killing things? Killing BIG THINGS! Ha! If you want to kill big things too, and you do, then come to Rodam Expeditions. Ask for the nice turian guy. He will sell you big guns like this one! And then we can all go and kill BIG THINGS together! I'm Grunt."


	52. Epilogue Part 2: The Briar And The Rose

Shepard had noticed that Jack was quieter than usual following her talk with Lt. Sanders. Donnelly seemed unconcerned about his significant other's behavior, and when pressed he'd told Shepard that Jack was like a cat. "Just give her space, sir, and she'll eventually let us know what's up." The Commander trusted the engineer's judgement. But he couldn't help but feel that _itch_ in his mind that came with knowing there was some problem in his crew that needed to be dealt with.

At least Jack seemed in decent spirits as their group strolled along one of the Presidum's walkways. Shepard was making good on his promise to Jack while also making it a bit of a 'double-date'. Tali and Jack were in front of the two men, and the quarian was acting as tour guide for the biotic. Surprisingly, Jack seemed at least a little interested in the sights that Tali pointed out.

They had one minor incident on the way to the restaurant. As they rounded a corner, a small ferret-like man popped out of a shrubbery. A camera drone popped out as well and hovered over his shoulder. "Commander Shepard? Tim Howard, Galax News Network. What do you say to the allegations that-"

Both Tim and the drone were surrounded by a blue glow that then pitched them over the railing and into one of the Presidum's many lakes.

Shepard laughed. "Thanks," he said to Jack. She just shrugged. It was a little surprising that someone had tried an ambush interview. It had started out as normal curiousity, but then the scrutiny had gotten really ridiculous after the first few days on the Citadel. The final straw had been when Pat Simons had tried to do a little clothes shopping. A paparazzi had actually barged into the copilot's dressing room while she was changing.

As a result, Shepard did two things. First, he sent out a press release politely asking that all journalists and photographers refer any questions to the Council and their press department, and to also please cease bothering the _Normandy's_ crew.

Second, he had let Jack and Kasumi off of the leash.

They'd been told not to kill or permanently injure any of them. But the duo _had_ been given full permission to get...creative...if anybody continued to harass the crew.

Five of the would-be photographers had been found naked and duct-taped to the underside of the Presidium's skybridges. Two more had been found naked as well, but this time with their heads jammed into each other's crotches; the pair had been tied together by a long piece of steel tubing bent around them like twine.

The one who'd invaded Simons' privacy had gotten the worst of it, after the twit had tried it again with Kelly Chambers. What Jack had done skirted the edge of the 'no permanent injury' rule, but the proctologists assured Shepard that the man would make a full recovery...after they'd fished all the bits of camera drone out of him.

C-Sec, for their part, had taken a look at the circumstances, a look at Shepard's Spectre status, and then had pointedly looked the other way.

The word had gone out. _Don't bother Shepard's crew._ They were now down to a few die-hards like the reporter currently going for a swim.

The restaurant lived up to its billing. They were met at the door by a polite asari in a subtly tasteful tuxedo-like garment. "Welcome, sir. So glad you could join us this evening."

Shepard smiled. "Thanks. I called ahead, I'm..."

The asari laughed. "No need for introductions, Commander. You're all famous by this point. Please, follow me."

* * *

They even had quarian meals available. The waiter assured them that they were freshly prepared but also thoroughly sterilized, and also of the proper consistency for Tali's suit interface.

The evening passed pleasantly. Jack's order of three separate entrees made the waiter raise one eyebrow, but nothing more. Old stories flowed along with the wine. Donnelly told of his drinking contest with a turian aboard the _Perugia_ , and both Shepard and Tali spoke of funny little moments during the chase after Saren.

"...so I'm doing my rounds of the ship," said Shepard with a smile. "And I'm walking by the sleeper pods when the door to one of the pods _flies_ open. It was perfect timing. _Bam_ , the door catches me right in the nose and I go down. I'm clutching at my face. I look up, my eyes are streaming and blood's pouring out of my nose, and I see Tali tumbling out of the pod. She starts darting around like a hummingbird, looking everywhere at once." He laughed heartily. "And all the time she's saying 'What is it? What broke?'. It took me ten minutes to calm her down."

Tali shrugged. "It's not my fault if you humans build your ships so quiet. On quarian ships, if it's quiet then something has gone seriously wrong."

Jack kept silent until Shepard pressed her for a story as well. "Most of the sh..stuff I've done isn't fun to talk about." She thought a bit. "Although there was that one time when I got charged with felony vandalism by the hanar." Jack laughed. "I'd managed to make a new crater on one of their moons with a space station."

"A space station?" asked Tali. "Was that the one you kinda-sorta stole?"

The biotic gave a grin. "They shouldn't have left the keys in it, is all I'm sayin'. Anyways, I was on the shuttle and running the fu..heck away. But I had the rear camera on and I was admiring the light show. It was a pretty nice explosion, if I do say so myself. And then the comm board lit up and I knew it was them even before I opened it. That was the only time I've seen one of the jellies just lose it."

Shepard laughed. "I can't believe it. I spent thirty minutes arguing with a hanar once and it never even raised its voice."

Jack grinned wider. "It turns out they really liked that moon. I guess there was a Prothean base on it, so the silly fu..fellows though it was holy ground. That was the first and only time I was ever cursed out by a big stupid jellyfish."

As they left the restaurant, Shepard felt a touch on his shoulder. Jack twitched her head over to a figure standing some distance away. "She smells like a reporter, Boss. You want me to give her swimming lessons?"

Shepard looked closer at the reporter. He recognized the dark hair and cinnamon-colored complexion. "Actually, I think this one I'll talk to. You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up in a bit."

Jack looked surprised, but shrugged and walked off with Tali and Donnelly.

Shepard strolled towards the reporter, who straightened up and waved cautiously as he drew close. She was clearly trying hard to not appear as an 'ambusher'. "Good evening, Commander Shepard. Khalisah Al-Jilani, Westerlund News. Do you have a moment?"

He nodded, and a small camera drone moved out from behind the reporter. "Good to see you again, Khalisah."

Al-Jilani smiled a trifle obsiqueously. "And you too, Commander. I just wanted to talk about how vindicated you must feel now that the Council has reinstated you."

"I was reinstated months ago," said Shepard. He kept his voice level. "It was during my first visit to the Citadel after my absence. I had an ongoing mission in the Terminus Systems, which is why I haven't been around. Now that the mission is concluded, I'm back to report to the Council."

"I see. And what does that report cover? The Council hasn't been saying much. As you can imagine, there have been many rumors about your mission. Our viewers would love to hear about it straight from you."

"I prevented a race in the Terminus Systems from constructing a dangerously capable artificial intelligence."

The reporter's smile became more predatory. "I have sources that say this 'artificial intelligence' was actually a Reaper."

"The Council has not confirmed the existence of Reapers," replied Shepard. "Some of the details are classified, but I can say that this AI would have been a significant threat."

"So is the Council changing its policies?"

"Not at all. The Council has always forbidden the construction of true AIs except under very controlled circumstances. As you can imagine, this particular incident was about as far from 'controlled' as one could get."

"I'm sure. But my sources also say that..."

Shepard laughed gently. "I'm sure you have plenty of sources. Some of them may even be true."

Al-Jilani looked down and sighed. She touched a few controls on her omni-tool and the camera drone's lights shut off. "You're as smooth as you ever were, Shepard. Can we talk? Off the record, I mean."

The Commander tilted his head. "Off the record? Really?"

The reporter's eyes were now haunted. "Really. No bullshit."

He waved a hand for her to continue.

She stepped a little closer. "Your report was leaked. The full report."

"To whom?"

"Me. And _just_ me, for now."

Shepard looked levelly at her. "Did you read it?"

She nodded and looked away. "It's true. You were right about all of it. The Reapers...they exist." Al-Jilani's face hardened. "And you saw what the Council said about you while you were gone. Why protect them?"

He sighed. "If you read that report, then you know why. My personal feelings are not important right now. Yes, it would be satisfying to go public and show them up as a bunch of horse's asses...Councilor Anderson excluded, of course."

"Of course."

"But then what? Trust in the Council is what keeps a good chunk of the galaxy together. It only works because the races think it works."

Al-Jilani hugged herself. "And if there's division and mistrust...it will be that much worse when the Reapers return."

"If, not when. I'm not giving up hope. And I need the Council and their resources if we're going to have a shot at stopping them."

There was a long moment while the reporter stared off into space. Finally she nodded. "You've made your case, Commander. I'm deleting that report. Even if it is the biggest scoop of my career."

He looked her in the eyes. "I thank you. I can give you an exclusive bit of news in return. I'm resigning my Alliance commission."

She blinked in surprise. "On the record?"

"On the record. I need to be able to work with everyone. Some still suspect me of being an Alliance puppet."

The reporter shook her head. "I'm sorry to hear that, Shepard. I've never made it a secret that I distrust the Council. It seems like you're getting in bed with them even more, so to speak."

"I need them. But I don't trust them either. That's why I also need people like you. The Council knows they screwed up, so they're going to be on their best behavior for a while. It's up to people like you to keep asking the tough questions. We need you to keep them honest."

She gave a wry smile. "I can see why you inspire such loyalty, Commander. Have a nice night."

* * *

Mordin Solus was beginning to get what humans would call 'antsy'. It had been a whole two weeks since any major crisis had arisen that required his unique talents. He knew that Shepard and his crew were recuperating and preparing for the next missions, but the seemingly endless wait grated at him. Besides, he had other work to do.

He thought about it as he strolled through Zakera Ward. The task ahead of him would ordinarily fill him with frustration. Undo something he'd spent so much effort on? Madness! But he had seen first-hand the pain that he'd caused. It had to be done.

As the salarian rounded a corner he saw a huge bulk ahead of him. The krogan had his back to him, and was presently occupied with a trio of females that were chatting and taking pictures with him. One was a turian, and the other two human.

"So how big _is_ your gun, Grunt?" asked the turian. Mordin picked up the double meaning even though he didn't possess anything resembling a mammalian sex drive.

Grunt, however, let the meaning sail right over his huge head. "It is very large," he replied. "I can show you."

One of the human females laughed. "Oooh, yeah, Saloria. Let Grunt show you his _big gun_."

Mordin was fascinated. Surely the krogan realized that they were...what was the word...'flirting' with him?

The krogan did not. "Here! Isn't it nice?"

The third female laughed. "Yes, it is. Can I touch it?"

"Of course!"

Mordin had seen enough. Besides, if Grunt caught sight of him he might call him over. So far, his interactions with the super-soldier had been short. Mordin wanted to keep it that way. The doctor slipped back around the corner and began walking the other way.

His mind turned back to the problem at hand. Dispersal was going to be a problem. He might be able to come up with a way to reverse the genetic flaw that he had so carefully re-crafted, but it would have to be done quickly. He had deliberately made the genophage able to deal with the famed krogan adapatability, and any normal attempt to simply negate it would fail...

His musings were cut short as he came to a wall he didn't remember being there. He looked up and realized that the 'wall' was actually Grunt.

"Doctor Solus." The usually amiable krogan now looked anything but friendly. "We have much to discuss."

One smaller part of Mordin's mind admired the krogan's speed and stealth. The other, larger, part of his mind began to look for possible escape routes.

Grunt tilted his head. "I do mean _discuss_ , Doctor." His expression became oddly...determined.

That quieted some of Mordin's fear, but didn't dissipate it completely. "Certainly," he said aloud. "What is subject under discussion?"

"The future of the krogan."

* * *

Kasumi tightened her arm around Garrus' narrow waist. "Thank you for the meal, cutie." She was wearing the lavender dress he'd bought for her on Illium. After some modification by Tali, it now had a thin diaphanous hood she could pull over her head if needed...which was part of its fully functioning cloak.

He patted her small hand with his huge clawed one. "Don't mention it. Thanks for agreeing to come to Palaven."

The two of them leaned on the railing overlooking one of the Presidium's lakes. Kasumi looked up at the artificial sky overhead. It was darkened in a simulated night. "It wasn't that big of a sacrifice on my part," she said. "I'd be an idiot to pass up the chance to see where you came from."

Garrus shrugged. "It's just a place. I think it's beautiful, but then I would, wouldn't I?" He chuckled. "Still, I appreciate it. Let me know if there's something I can do to repay you."

The little thief looked around. There were a few others around this time of night, but for the most part they were alone. Her next request was something she'd been nerving herself up to for a while. Kasumi took a deep breath before she continued. "Actually, there is something else I want you to do."

She let go of his arm and turned to face him. Garrus, for his part, looked somewhat concerned. She knew he'd gotten good enough at reading human expressions to realize she was being serious. Kasumi held both of his hands in hers as she looked up into his deep-set blue eyes.

"Garrus, I want you to bite me."

The turian blinked in surprise. "You mean...actually bite you?"

She nodded.

"You _do_ know what that means for turians, right?"

"Of course, you doofus dinosaur. I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

He stared at her for a long moment, so long that her heart started to sink. Had she misjudged his feelings for her?

Then he squeezed her hands. "I can't tell you how...full that makes me feel, Kasumi. I'd be honored to. Let's head back and..."

She shook her head. "No. Right here, right now. I don't care who's watching. I want you to mark me as yours."

He chuckled again. "We mark each other, dear." The turian went down on one knee in front of her and then slowly leaned his his head in to the nape of her neck. His warm breath washed over her skin as Kasumi gripped his shoulder. Her heart was pounding harder than it ever had, even in the Collector base. Every instinct was screaming at her to run, there was an apex predator at her neck who was getting ready to tear out her throat...

Garrus gently placed his open mouth at the base of her neck. Then, without warning, he clamped down. There was a brief, shocking pain as the sharp edges of his mouth sank into her skin, followed by his equally sharp fangs. Kasumi gritted her teeth. She was _not_ going to cry out, damn it all. He didn't bite down hard, just enough to break the skin. He carefully opened his mouth and let go, and then she felt his tongue gently lap at her fresh wound.

"Now it's your turn," he said, and tilted his neck so that he was exposed to her. There was a patch of bare, pebbled skin there amongst all of the natural armor plating.

Kasumi hesitated. "I'll do my best. We humans don't have teeth as sharp as yours..."

"I trust you. Get in there and bite me, monkey-girl."

She did as he asked. It went all right, although she definitely made more of a mess of it. Garrus was a champ about it though. His blood tasted odd, not quite as metallic as human blood. Once it was over he stood and they gazed at each other for a long moment.

"I'm trying to come up with something carefree and snarky to say, but I can't," said Garrus. "I guess I've lost that particular defense mechanism, eh?"

"Only for the moment, I hope," she replied with a grin. "I'd hate to have you get all serious on me...husband."

Garrus laughed. "Well, it's not quite official yet...wife. There's a ceremony we'll need to go through. And my parents are going to want to throw a big party when they hear the news."

She grasped his forearm. "I see some things are universal. They'll be okay with me being a squishy human?"

"My father might click his mandibles at the idea, but my family was pretty sure I was going to die alone. They'll be happy that I'm not off by myself battering my head against an unjust universe."

"So that's settled, then," she said with satisfaction. She took his arm and the pair strolled off. "Now, we should get our story straight. Let's say I'm an antiques dealer, and you first met me on Illium. I happened to be on the Citadel when you came back and we reconnected."

"Our eyes met across a crowded room," mused Garrus. "A whirlwind romance, then we're separated by cruel fate. Followed by a sudden, happy reunion. Oh yeah, my sister will eat that stuff up..."

* * *

Mordin finished his confession while he looked down at his hands. They were gifted hands that had taken many lives but saved so many more. He didn't look up. In a way, he hoped that Grunt would simply go berserk. Running for his life would help keep him from thinking about his past actions.

Instead, Grunt leaned back in his chair. The krogan had suggested going for something the humans called 'coffee'. It was some sort of brewed stimulant that only humans (and krogan) could drink. The salarian had taken one sniff of Grunt's coffee and knew it would kill him to drink it. So Mordin was sticking with herbal tea.

"Thank you," said Grunt.

Mordin looked up in surprise. That was almost the last thing he ever expected the krogan to say.

Grunt's face still had that strange determination. "For your honesty, I mean."

The salarian slumped in his chair and stared at the floor. "I have not told many about this. Shepard and you only ones outside of STG to know."

"Let us keep it that way," said Grunt. He picked up his cup and downed it in one gulp. "What are your intentions for the future?"

Mordin looked the krogan in the eyes. "To fix it. Must put it right. Too much blood on my hands."

Grunt finally smiled. " _We_ must put it right. On both sides. You cannot simply cure the genophage."

Mordin blinked and his eyes became huge. That was exactly the last thing he ever expected a krogan to say. "Why not?"

The krogan looked down at the table. "Our race has not been wise. There was a reason for the genophage in the first place. You know this, or you would never have agreed to work on its modification. You are not sadistic."

The doctor shook his head. "Irrelevant. Have seen what pain my hands have wrought. Cannot be permitted to continue."

"I agree, but we must work together. You must cure the genophage, and I must cure the krogan." Grunt sighed. "It is difficult, but I will have to leave my Battlemaster and go to Tuchanka. Urdnot Wrex has made a good start, but he will need help. I must bear witness to all krogan. I must teach them the true meaning of krantt."

For the first time in a long while, Mordin felt an odd sensation of lightness in his chest. Was this what some called 'hope'? He smiled. "Must go to Sur'Kesh, myself. Access genetic records, make plans. Should keep in touch with each other."

"We should," replied Grunt. He rose and stuck out a huge paw to the diminutive salarian. Mordin carefully shook the proffered hand. "I count you as a friend, Mordin Solus," said Grunt. He smiled wider. "Now I must go. Those females liked the 'innocent and clueless' act. I think I can get at least one of them into bed. Perhaps all three."

* * *

Donnelly almost followed Shepard and Tali into the _Normandy's_ airlock, only to be stopped by a tug on his arm from Jack.

"I've got a surprise, dude. Come with me."

He raised an eyebrow, but went along with it. They strolled back from the docks with Jack's smaller arms around his bicep. "Can you at least give me a hint, lassie?"

She smiled. "Kasumi knows a guy who has a nice apartment up in the Presidium. He's off doing some sort of trade deal. I thought we could use a little change of scenery."

Donnelly almost wanted to ask if this 'guy' actually knew that his apartment was being used, but he figured that ignorance was better in this situation. "I see."

The elevator ride was surprisingly quiet. He figured that Jack would use the opportunity to get frisky with him, but right now she seemed preoccupied. He was also curious about her deliberate attempt to not swear during dinner. His curiosity burned strong, but he knew Jack. As he'd told Shepard, she needed her space.

Jack leaned into his shoulder. "Thanks."

"For what, lass?"

"For not bugging me. I know I've been out of sorts lately, but it's not because of you. I'll tell you tomorrow, okay? Let's just shut our brains off for tonight."

He patted her hands. "Sure thing."

* * *

The apartment turned out to be very nice; it was high up along the wall of the Presidium and had a huge panoramic picture window that looked out over the walkways and lakes far below. Donnelly took a quick look down and then turned away. Jack stood in the doorway leading to the bedroom. She smiled and crooked a finger at him. He smiled back and began walking towards her, only to be frozen in place by a blue glow.

"Oh, no," she said teasingly. "You have to watch us first."

"Us?"

A redheaded form walked out from behind the doorway and stood behind Jack. Kelly giggled as she looked over Jack's shoulder at Donnelly's stunned face.

"I think he forgot about our little offer, Jack," said Kelly. She slid her arms around Jack's stomach and began to greedily run them up and down the biotic's body.

Jack hummed with pleasure and leaned back into Kelly. "I think you're right. How should we punish him?"

The blue glow shut off, but before Donnelly could react a pair of strong blue arms slid around him and pinned his arms to his sides.

"I'll take care of that, my dears," said Samara. He could feel her breath on his ear. "What do you think, Marcus? Should I punish you for forgetting?" A tongue playfully licked his earlobe.

"Now, Samara, you do have to admit a lot has happened since then."

"Mmmm, yes. But I thought you engineers were supposed to be detail-oriented." Her arms tightened around him in a fierce hug.

"Ooof...I really hope you're teasing, Samara."

"Oh, I am. Mostly." Samara's hand slid down and deftly undid his belt and fly, then slid into his pants and gently squeezed. She gave a satisfied hum at what she found. Jack and Kelly already had half of their clothes off, which was an impressive display of flexibility given how they had their mouths locked together. They kept up the kiss as they stripped off the rest of each other's clothing.

Donnelly responded to the sight in front of him as any red-blooded hetero male would. The asari chuckled as she felt his excitement rise. "Well now. My dears, it appears that Marcus is enjoying your show. I think we should make him watch some more. And maybe we'll let him join in...eventually."

* * *

One of the great constants of the universe is that wherever civilization goes, Chinese restaurants go as well. The Citadel was no exception, and thus the apartment's kitchen table was now piled high with small white boxes. Samara had fallen in love (or at least lust) with pot-stickers and had gone through three orders all by herself.

It had been a very instructive time for Donnelly. He'd never 'been' with an asari before. After the mind-rape he'd experienced while in the Collector's clutches, he understandably had cold feet about the whole 'Joining' thing. Samara had been patient and kept her ensuing 'shenanigans' with Donnelly purely physical...for the moment.

After a quite enjoyable time with everyone, Samara had declared herself famished. So they'd ordered enough food for an entire frigate's crew, and tipped the delivery driver well. The young man hadn't batted an eye at being greeted at the door by a statuesque asari without a stitch of clothing. It appeared that being a delivery person on the Citadel inured one to such sights.

And then, in the middle of their eating and chatting, an offhand comment by Donnelly went off like a verbal hand-grenade. The three women looked at him in shock and surprise.

"Wait, wait, wait, your mom's _alive_?" Jack looked incredulous.

Donnelly realized that he had somehow never told Jack about that. "Um, yeah."

Kelly chortled. She was seated in Donnelly's lap. "Oh, that's perfect. You're going to love her, Jack."

The biotic didn't look angry, just confused. "I don't get it. When you told me that story about getting your ass beat, you swore on your mother's grave."

He shrugged. "It was a figure of speech?" It sounded lame even as he said it.

Samara laughed. "And you're always talking about your 'poor mum'. I admit I thought she was deceased as well."

"Well, she's not," said Donnelly, a trifle defensively. "And she had to put up with my shite when I was growin' up, so I always think of her as me poor mum."

Kelly leaned forward and grabbed an egg roll. She gave a gratuitous grind of her bare bottom into Donnelly's lap as she did so. "I remember when we were in those damn cylinders, and you created that sanctuary memory for us of sitting in her kitchen. I hoped then that I could meet her someday."

"What's she like?" asked Jack. Now her confusion was replaced with curiosity.

Kelly grinned. "She's absolutely adorable. She's smaller than me, and she's got the most amazing accent." She leaned against Donnelly. "And she's feisty, like our engineer here. When my mother showed up, his mom was ready to beat that bitch's ass into paste."

Donnelly chuckled. "That's me mum, all right. I'm _so_ in for it when I call her. She's gonna give me an earful about not keeping in touch."

Jack absently tapped a little ditty on the table with her hand. "I guess you and I need to meet her, sooner or later. Probably sooner." She looked a little scared. "Is...is she going to be okay with me? I mean, I'm not, you know, normal."

"Neither is she," replied Donnelly. "Trust me, you and her are gonna be thick as thieves."

"I hope we can meet her too," said Kelly. "I mean, if you're okay with it."

Samara smiled. "I have to admit, I am interested in visiting Earth."

Donnelly shrugged. "I don't see why not. Mum is gonna be thrilled to have so much company."

The asari leaned back. "I'm feeling nicely full. What should we do next? Ah, yes, that's right. You!" She pointed at Donnelly. "You and I have an appointment."

He cleared his throat. "Ah. I guess we do."

Kelly kissed his neck. "It will be okay, Marcus. Really, it will. Jack and I will be there too."

He let himself be led back into the bedroom. He felt oddly disconnected, as if he'd taken a leap off of a cliff and was waiting for his parachute to open.

Jack hopped up on the bed and patted in between her legs. "Sit here, buddy. I'll be right behind you."

Donnelly complied. As he turned to face Samara, he felt Jack's hands squeeze his shoulders. Kelly lay alongside him and gently stroked his thigh, like she was calming a skittish racehorse.

"Sorry I'm being such a dafty about this," he said.

Samara loomed over him, but her smile was gentle. "I understand, dear heart." She gripped his face with her hands and stared deep into him with those ageless, pale blue eyes of hers. "Your first experience was not gentle, you poor thing. Let me show you what it means to truly touch someone's mind."

Her eyes began to dilate. "Embrace eternity..."

* * *

Shepard stood back. The wall facing the _Normandy's_ elevator now held twenty nameplates arranged in a column. The column started with the name 'Navigator Charles Pressly' at the top, followed by the others who had died during the Collector attack over Alchera. Shepard looked down at the final nameplate in his hand and pondered the choices he'd made before and after that attack.

Zaeed came lurching around the corner. The mercenary had finally gotten his vertebrae and nerves replaced, and he was getting around on forearm crutches while his legs re-learned how to walk. He stood next to Shepard in front of the new memorial wall and looked it over.

The Commander fished a small metal object out of his pocket and handed it to Zaeed. "Here. I owe you a new one, after all."

Zaeed took the lighter with a chuckle. "Thanks for rememberin'." He looked back up at the list of names. "Good people?"

"The best," replied Shepard. And then he stepped forward and placed the last nameplate on the wall, right at the top of the column.

 ** _GUNNERY CHIEF ASHLEY WILLIAMS_**

They both regarded the nameplate in silence for a while before Zaeed spoke. "You're gonna add more names to this wall, you know."

Shepard nodded. "And one day it'll be my name up there as well. The only thing I can do in the meantime is to keep this list as short as possible."

"Yeah. Well, you're good at that."

There was another silence.

"So what's next?" asked Shepard. "After you're fully mobile, I mean."

Zaeed smiled. "Well, after that whole sharing-memories thing on the Collector base, Lucy and Sheila realized they have strong feelin's for each other. And it turns out they aren't too intimidated by my rugged good looks and natural charm."

Shepard looked sideways at the mercenary. "I know you made a nice payday off of the mission. Are you going to buy a farm and settle down?"

Zaeed gave a loud and raspy laugh in reply. "Hah! As if I could. I'd gnaw my own foot off inside of six months if I ever tried to retire. Fortunately, both of the girls are understanding of my roving lifestyle. They don't mind a bit of travel."

Shepard shook his head in amusement. "And I guess you'll be traveling in style with the money you made."

The mercenary shrugged. "Not really. Most of it is goin' into the new venture I'm startin' up. What do you think of 'Massani's Marauders' as a title?"

"I like the name. But...a new merc company? Are you sure you can compete with the big three?"

"Hell yes! I know most of the quality people in those outfits. Especially the Blue Suns. I'll be offerin' better profit sharing and jobs with...let's say better moral clarity. Yeah, I'll be able to poach 'em no problem. Give me twelve months, and we'll be givin' those other groups a run for their money."

Shepard turned away from the wall to face him. "Well, I wish you luck. If you need any work, let me know. I'll definitely have some odd jobs for you in the future."

"The odder the better, Shepard. Just say the word and I'll be there." They shook hands and Zaeed lurched off cheerfully.

Shepard regarded the wall one last time and then walked away with purpose. It was time to stop dwelling in the past. After all, he had a galaxy to protect.

* * *

It turned out that both Jack and Samara snored. Kelly was still asleep when the noise woke Donnelly. He lay in the middle of them all and pondered life for a bit. He and Jack were an item, that much was certain. Samara and Kelly were an item, that much was also certain. But what were the four of them? What he'd experienced with Samara...and Kelly, for that matter...went well beyond a simple roll in the hay.

After some thought, he decided that they were all important to each other and left it at that. The details would sort themselves out in due course. Donnelly carefully extricated himself from the cuddle-pile of warm bodies and padded out into the living room. The panoramic window now looked out on another perfect day on the Presidium. He rolled his neck around and stretched his arms over his head. Maybe he could find some coffee in the kitchen.

He felt a tattooed presence behind him. A slim hand patted his bare rump. "Mornin', Assface."

"Good morning, ya wee scunner." He turned and kissed her forehead.

She hugged him in response. "We need to talk."

He held her while he waited. He was pretty sure that this wasn't a breakup. They had been through too much together. But something was bothering Jack, and now she was finally ready to tell him.

"Go ahead, lass," he said softly.

Jack took a deep breath. "That Sanders chick I met with. She's made an offer for me to join the Grissom Academy."

"As a teacher?"

She nodded. "Biotic training."

He stroked her scalp. "Congratulations. And I mean that."

"I know you do, it's just that...what about us? I can't ask you to go off into the middle of nowhere and squat in a space station."

"But you want to do this?"

There was a long pause.

"Yeah," she said in a small voice. "Let's face it, this is probably the closest thing I'll ever get to an honest job. I at least want to see how the other half lives, you know?" She chuckled, but he could hear a tinge of sadness in it.

He laughed, but in a much more jovial manner.

"What's so funny, Assface?"

Donnelly kissed her head. "By an amazing coincidence, it turns out they have trouble getting good engineers who are willing to, as you put it, go squat in a space station. Sanders and I had a little talk the other day as well."

She looked up at him. "You did?"

He smiled down at her. "They made me an offer too. A very generous one. I sense Hackett's hand in things, but I'm not going to look too closely into it."

Jack relaxed against him. "You little fucker. Why didn't you say something?"

"I was waiting to see what you wanted to do first, lass. Where you go, I go."

She looked down and sniffed a little. "Damn it. I'm turning into a weepy little bitch."

"So that's settled, then."

Jack shrugged. Her face was neutral, and Donnelly finally felt a little twinge of fear.

"Maybe," she replied. "I mean, we'll go to Grissom and be awesome, because we're awesome. And it'll be great for a long time. But then I'll do something to piss you off, because pushing buttons is what I do, or you'll get all techie on me one too many times and piss me off, because that's what you do. And then we'll yell at each other and say hurtful shit and break up..."

Donnelly opened his mouth to protest, but then Jack looked up at him. Her warm brown eyes met his as she kept speaking.

"...and then we'll remember that we didn't give up on each other, even in the middle of hell itself. So we'll get back together and have amazing make-up sex and keep going. The Reapers will try some shit and we'll team back up with Shepard. Then we'll go grind those robot-squid fuckers up and sell the powder as herbal supplements. After that we'll go back to Grissom and get old and crotchety and so disgustingly in love with each other that the universe itself will throw up its hands and say 'fine, _you_ two assholes get to live forever'."

Donnelly pondered for a little bit before replying. "Why Jack, I think you're becoming an optimist."

"What can I say, Assface? You're a bad influence."

* * *

 _"No mistakes in the tango, darling, not like life. It's simple. That's what makes the tango so great. If you make a mistake, get all tangled up, just tango on."  
_ _\- Lt. Col. Frank Slade, 'Scent of a Woman'_


End file.
